Nine Days
by SexyLexiCullen
Summary: Was it love at first sight or did it take a few nights? After a taste of Shaky and a healthy dose of Jack, Sonny embarks on an atypical new adventure, pushing aside his responsibilities to get lost in Maggie. (Takes place between Chapter 19 and Chapter 20 of "Riders on the Storm")
1. Chapter 1

**Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. No copyright infringement is intended. **

**Beta'd by HollettLA. **

**Hey, Storm Freaks!**

**I know it's been a while. Most, if not all, of you will probably get lost just diving into this. I do suggest youse go back, re-read chapter 19, and possibly chapter 20 after you've read this. (This starts with the end of chapter 19, only I've fleshed out the last scene) Please enjoy. I know it's on the long side, but I had a lot of fun writing this, revisiting Sonny and Maggie's romance – the beginning stages of it, anyway. **

**And those of you who are waiting for other updates, please be patient. I apologize for the long wait, but please know that I intend to finish/complete ALL of my stories.**

*** Chapters will vary from long to short. (There are ten of them) And I have no distinct posting schedule as of yet, but it'll be quick. **

**Thank you for reading!**

* * *

**"****Nine Days"**

**Chapter One**

**_T_**ucked into my side, Maggie and I left the club without another word to anyone. The main floor of Midnight Sun had cleared out some—close to closing time.

Then we were on the sidewalk and I was watching out for cabs. The cool night air was, once again, very refreshing. Especially now. Now, after I'd been vexed to high heaven because of my brother's antics.

Having just downed half a bottle of Jack did nothing for my mood. I'd had a nice buzz going, was relaxing and enjoying Maggie's company.

But then…like always, like every-single-other-time I'd found myself content…like tonight, earlier this evening when I was extraordinarily happy, something or someone had to fuck it up.

Throw a wrench or twelve at me, a pound of salt hitting all open wounds.

My anger had won out, overriding what I'd been feeling previously.

The wind, however, was unforgiving, whipping at us and making Maggie's hair fly in the breeze.

Stepping closer, nearly hovering, I gathered her hair into my hands, keeping it off her shoulders—making sure it didn't obstruct my view of her pretty face. "Where did you want to go?"

She shrugged, her hands landing on mine to entwine our fingers. "I don't know."

"We could go to a hotel, but…" I didn't want to seem presumptuous, nor did I want to say anything that might intimidate her—give her the wrong idea.

After all, we'd already fucked, and I was fine with just cuddling, just hanging out with her for a while, needing to just fucking relax and let go. "You decide—are you hungry?" That idea came to mind. "We can hit up a diner, and then . . . by that time Kylie will be home."

"My clothes are there—"

"I can buy you new ones. I don't want you to worry about some stupid shit like that." Okay, so I really wanted to hit up a hotel here in Manhattan and stay far away from Bay Ridge, far away from anyone who knew us.

I'd take her to Barneys in the morning, spoil her ass rotten before I brought her back—_whenever_ that would be.

I didn't give a fuck about the shit my father had said, "_Have her back before Mom wakes up_." He'll forget, not give a fuck by morning, I was sure. Particularly because he'll have his hands full with my drunken mother and sister, occupied by keeping an eye on Dame, too.

"What?" She thought that was funny. "You don't have to—"

"Hey." I held her tighter. "I want to, and you can't wear this tomorrow." I looked down to her skimpy outfit. "Not for nothing, I bet you're freezing." I closed my jacket that she was wearing.

"Well, Kylie said we'd be going from cars and then into places..." She turned from me to peer at the street.

Instinctively, and without warning, I pulled Maggie back into my arms to hold her close, the tightest I could. My large frame towered over her; I wanted to absorb her—her optimism, her exuberance, her joyfulness.

I wanted…

No, I _craved_ whatever it was that made Maggie shine—had me wishing and hoping the ray of light in my arms would illuminate my ominous existence.

My hands roamed down her back, but I stopped myself from grabbing at her luscious ass, burying my schnoz into her vanilla-scented hair instead.

Maggie was relaxed, not a rigid bone in her body, and she wasn't compelled to fill the silence with idle chatter. She remained quiet and let me embrace her. Though it seemed she was sniffing me out as well; her cute little nose almost hiding between two of my shirt buttons.

That made me smile, more of her warmth encompassing me.

I didn't know what to say, or if anything needed to be said at this time.

I didn't know what had come over me.

I didn't know what the rest of tonight, tomorrow, or the next day would bring, but I wanted more...?

Uncertain of what "more" consisted of, I'd settle for a do-over to rectify what we did on the roof—redeem the night by making the rest of it momentous, as a first time should be.

Maggie said she thought what we did was special, and a part of me did, too. Scratch that, a large part of me did, as she'd stirred feelings within me that…I hadn't felt for a very long time or had never felt at all.

My qualms stemmed from the location, which had nothing to do with what occurred. All of which was so phenomenal, I can hardly wrap my head around it. I just wanted to make tonight memorable for her.

Even if _I_ can't recollect the fine print of losing _my_ virginity…

Allegedly—and based on what I've heard others say about it—you always remember your first fuck, but _I_ didn't. Not really. In retrospect, it's not something I ever dwelled upon. I know_ whom _I'd done it with, where we were, and I can recall throwing rose petals on Katie's bed. Everything else—how I'd felt, how long I'd lasted, if that bitch bled when I popped her cherry, or if she came—was lost to me.

Moreover, I didn't want tonight to escape Maggie's memory;_ I_ didn't want to be forgotten, omitted as a transgression after too many appletinis.

Consequently, there weren't any petals on a bed. Hell, there hadn't even been a bed, but that just means I have to revamp my game—treat her like the gorgeous princess she is...until it's time to say goodbye, until I bring her home.

We didn't have to fuck again if she wasn't up for it.

In fact, I'd love nothing more than to lose myself, disregard the complications of my shitty reality, let the past couple of weeks, months, and years be obliterated from my mind—forget everything, fuck it to hell.

Abandon any and all responsibilities…

Take a vacation from my miserable, everyday life.

A much-needed sabbatical where I'd dote on, spoil, and pamper the lovely brunette in my arms.

Fully commit to being her Prince Charming for the rest of our time together...

It'd be for _her_ benefit, of course, but I had this…hunch that I'd probably enjoy it more.

Because taking a break from life was exactly what Sonny, _and Sonny alone_, wanted.

A brief recess was the intermission that Sonny—_the respite that I_—hungered for, a breather, the time-out I needed like mad to lift my spirits, or whatever-the-fuck.

_We'd have to see about that. _

My heart continued to swell the further my mind wandered, contemplating every-single-thing.

The unexpected epiphany, wanting a deferment from my life, knowing the short interlude would be relaxing and help get my head together. Putting some space between myself and the rest of the world, including my family, doing something for Sonny, and having the balls to say, "fuck it" and go for it…?

It truly was one helluva realization. That shit had my _mind_ boggled, seeing that it was a logical and fairly simple solution, although I was real fucking excited.

On top of all that, what really had me thrilled like a happy-go-lucky idiot—and oversaturated with joy, my head and heart bloated with pride, greed, and lust—was what Maggie had given me.

It was the most invaluable, most special of gifts.

_My precious._

At the moment, I_ was_ holding her as if someone might steal her away. Then again, I did get creepy, scary, and Gollum-like with Dame before.

_My precious was worth the king's ransom...a fat motherfucker's weight in gold. _

And I _felt_ like a fucking king, too, which _was_ her doing. Maggie had me all puffed up, had me feeling more like a man than any other broad I'd ever been with.

All joking aside, it wasn't _just pussy _she'd given me.

I'm used to women throwing themselves at me.

In some ways, Maggie did the same.

Though she was more like the lamb in the lion's den—coy, trusting, big-eyed, and blushing—and I dug that to no end.

Still, I don't know if she knew what she was doing, provoking and awaking the beast, the ever-possessive Gollum in me.

And in other ways…we just went with the flow, hung out, had drinks, laughed, got to know each other a little.

Neither of us was too pushy, making it easy—so fucking easy—to give in, be ourselves, and talk.

The only thing that'd been thrown tonight was caution…and we threw that to the wind.

_To the moon._

_Hours ago. _

She wasn't overtly aggressive, and I didn't have to try _that_ hard, not that I ever do—not when it comes to getting my cock greased. In the past, if I'd hit a bump in the road, I'd just move on to another for a smoother ride.

But I'd tried to open up, get to know her, have conversations.

Knowing that in order to fuck her, I had to open up, do something other than put the moves on her.

I think…I'm not sure, but I was probably supposed to view her as a kid? Kylie's silly friend who had a crush on Dame? The soon-to-be nun across the street who sells cookies in the spring? Someone I wasn't supposed to take seriously?

Well, she's nothing of the sort.

Earlier, on the phone with my mom and then at La Bella Italia, she was my sister's friend, and someone my brother also asked me to occupy because of his insecure girlfriend.

Little Maggie, the neighborhood Girl Scout, who'd grown into a fox of a lady, who'd always been there, seemingly right under my nose.

Innocent vixen, yes, but there was more to her.

I found her interesting, this unseen force making me ache to know her better, which would eventually make me yearn for more than her words.

Regardless of being Katie's first lay, it's only now—with Maggie and fourteen years later—that I see the severity, the sincerity, and the importance of such an act.

I'm the _only_ man Maggie has ever been with. The only man to have seen, touched, and tasted her most treasured and private of places.

_Jesus Christ. _

Just knowing that…that was another thing making my head spin with various thoughts. Made my stomach jolt with the ridiculous notion of keeping it that way—that I'd be the only one allowed to touch her, allowed to have her.

Mine, someone just for me and me alone.

My pants were suddenly snug, thinking of the feast that was her pussy.

_Her deliciously tight, pink cunt._

My God.

I honestly couldn't remember the last time I'd done that. The two times Katie has fucked me—as of recent, in which she kept asking if I was almost finished—I just didn't do it. I had no desire to since she was rushing me, or maybe I wasn't "doing it right," because my head wasn't into it. But no one has ever asked me to hurry up before.

It's also not a habit of mine to eat strange pussy, and that makes oral sex an event few and far between…when it comes to _giving_, that is. Seriously. Racking my brain, I came up short, couldn't recollect the last time I'd munched a box.

Maggie was beautiful down there, delicate, small, untouched and oh-so pretty and tasty…

I deftly pulled my bottom half away, wanting my cock to soften. And with the way we'd been standing, I felt like I was thirteen and at a school dance—making sure not to poke my date while thinking of her boobies.

And just how long had we been standing here while I contemplated the complexities of life along with Maggie's pussy?

Maggie didn't seem to mind, though. "What's so funny?" She grinned up to me after removing her nose from my shirt, wanting to share my good humor.

My eyes locked on to hers, my stomach doing a somersault.

And gazing into those big, curious, and yet trusting, eyes, I silently hoped she'd take another chance with me.

_'__Cause I'd sure as fuck make it worth her time. _

The roof, the cold wind, the crappy blanket on top of the tar, the pain she felt while I was inside of her—I'd fix that, make good, and I'd give her everything and anything I could.

It'd be just as—if not more—gratifying for me.

"Spend the rest of the night with me," I whispered, my palms resting low on her back again. "I'll bring you home tomorrow—whenever. Your parents already think you're with Kylie…" I trailed off, crossing my fingers, and feeling a little ridiculous.

For a brief second, she beamed before ducking her gaze—her face flushing crimson. "When you look at me the way you do, I just..." Maggie gulped, fanning her cheeks. "I'm not cold anymore."

I chuckled, thinking her flustered state was cute.

'Cause _I_ did that, threw her off balance, when...I hadn't done anything.

"And you make my heart go…" She created a fast beat on her chest, looking like this adorable cartoon character, explaining the "ba-boom" of her heart.

"_I _do that, huh?" I pulled Maggie closer once more, seeing a taxi behind her.

Raising my hand high in the air, I looked to Maggie, imploringly. "Trust me again. Like you did before."

"I trust you." Her blush deepened, and she tried to cover her smile with her hand.

I stopped her from hiding; her giddy expression was somehow intoxicating. Less than a half hour ago, I'd been guzzling a lot of Jack—hoping to relax and let loose—and the liquor had nothing on Shaky. Or, maybe it was the combination?

Only difference…I had faith that Shaky wouldn't leave me worse for wear later on.

But, hey, you never know…

"Good. Thank you. You won't regret it." I meant that shit and helped her into the cab.

Maggie scooted into the backseat; she was agreeable with whatever I wanted to do, which made my next decision an easy one.

"Waldorf-Astoria," I told the driver.

Maggie was nestled into my side while we rode along the streets. Unlike earlier, she had no retreat, and I wasn't letting go. Tonight, being with her, was different. In and of itself, tonight was an escape for me, or maybe I could consider it an adventure—as I, too, was placing trust in myself.

I wouldn't be going home to my empty apartment, nor would I be bringing some random cooz home with me. Not that I could. Not with Katie at my place. I wouldn't be going home to argue with that bitch either, the soon-to-be mother of my child—for the inevitable shouting match that would be undoubtedly irrelevant.

And I'd never been to the Waldorf before.

When it comes to hookups, I've gone to a hotel on occasion, but the location was never important.

My father's face lights up whenever he speaks of it, and knowing it as a place where kings, queens, and presidents stay when in New York—a fairy tale-like atmosphere—it seemed appropriate for my intentions.

Riding along Park Avenue now, my stomach suddenly did a backflip, anticipation flowing through me.

Optimism eclipsed my heart when that shocking revelation came to mind again—wanting to forget my past, my present, and escape my reality—while hoping my eventual forever would start tonight.

This was a chance to rediscover what I wanted in life, to reassess everything, and I needed to learn which steps had to be taken for me to find happiness.

_Fucking happiness. _

Pleasure, satisfaction, the ability to focus on _my_ well-being.

I had to _start_ doing things that'd bring _me_ joy.

I had to _stop_ concerning myself with other people.

I had to start worrying about _me!_

No longer would I sacrifice my own enjoyment for the sake of family, friends, and associates.

And there'd be no more compromising either...when it came to personal matters.

I'd settled for less my whole life, it seems, accepting this or that as the way things were, fooling myself into thinking shit had been set in stone.

The last few hours, I've been the happiest I've been in a very long time.

I got a taste…a glimpse of what "letting go" feels like.

_So, how could I go back to mediocrity? _

I didn't want to be…just content anymore.

There's a huge difference between satisfaction and satisfactory, and I'd been living my life thinking the latter was gravy. But…hell no, I no longer think that way. The former is what I should be striving for—being satisfied and fulfilled, ecstatic in life and with myself.

I already knew carting Maggie off to the Waldorf was going to be a pleasing and fun experience. And I refused to deny myself this…fortunate stroke of serendipity?

_Okay, so that sounds lame and corny_.

Nevertheless, I wanted to seize any and all opportunities to change my life for the better. Even if it came to me via an unplanned thwack of good fortune—had stemmed from that brilliant, lightbulb moment.

Despite that, I'd meant it in an overall sense, in that broadening and eye-opening way, not necessarily _because of_ Maggie...

She did, however, provide me with a new level of exhilaration—like another hit, more like a kick in the head—that had me in a constant state of arousal, too eager and full of enthusiasm yet nervous, and I was also happier than flies on shit.

I'd never done anything that even compared, nor have I ever experienced a night like this before. In addition, I was still in total awe of Maggie, of myself, of my actions, and my emotions...that I'm actually having some.

That series of events started during dinner, making light conversation, sharing parts of myself and being silly with my young date, doing whatever I could to make her blush, loving the way her body responded—just how responsive she was to me, the effect I had on her.

Hey, when you're used to chillin' with pigs, it's easy to assume they've seen it all and have done most. So, Maggie's blushing, her innocence that radiated from her was refreshing. I dug it; it gave me the only hard-on.

The way my body responded to her…

Forget about it.

Meanwhile, I chalked a lot of her reactions up to being sexually repressed or sexually frustrated; she was sexually supercharged and in need of stimulation.

And I was more than happy to oblige.

I just didn't expect to get keyed up, being as timid and nervous as I was with fucking butterflies up in my gut. That'd never happened to me before. In spite of all that, all those nerves, my dick hadn't failed me. Thank God, it didn't...because, yo, it was fantastic.

There was something new to tonight, something I couldn't name or put my finger on. I knew what I felt…I'd been feeling a great many things. I just couldn't categorize a damn thing.

Most importantly, it seemed the longer I was with Maggie, the more gray clouds she'd erase from my sky.

Gone was the rain—the doom and gloom in my life had taken a powder—the sun's rays replacing it.

Maggie is like the cool air that hits you when leaving a sauna…that deep, gasping breath after swimming a few laps in the pool. My stomach keeps jumping, like I'm on a roller coaster, constantly descending these never-ending, high-as-fuck hills.

Shit.

I'm letting my mind run away from me, must be buggin', my thoughts sounding all poetic. Leave it to me, Mr. Apathetic when it comes to broads. Now I'm feeling too much, and I don't even know what half this shit means. I just had to stop.

_Could a vise-like, tight pussy…"deflowering" a pretty, young thing have made that much of an impact? _

Maybe I was better off with the loose ones?

Not likely.

Only a fool would bounce, leave heaven, and take the elevator all the way back down to hell—where pussy has no name, you don't gotta call, and small-talk is irrelevant.

"Hey…" I tilted her chin up, my nose touching hers. "Thank you."

She searched my eyes but then dropped hers. "I—"

I leaned forward, a smirk on my lips, making her meet my gaze. "Look at me, beautiful."

She swallowed and wet her lips. "Why are you thanking me?"

Reluctant to break our stare, I thought about my answer.

_Because I feel awake for the first time in years. _

_Because you make me feel like anything's possible. _

_Because simply being with you is unlike anything I've ever known. _

"Because I—I had such a good time tonight." I did my best not to laugh at myself.

_Pussy. _

Fuck you, I told my psyche.

Who the fuck was he to judge me? He's the pussy for being all…mushy, talking about that refreshingly beautiful sauna of a roller coaster garbage.

With the optimism, the clouds, and the butterflies...

How many broads have my psyche and I bagged over the years? Sure, I plan to go the gusto, try to match what she's given me by giving her what I could. But this is still a hookup, two people going to a hotel, no matter the pretense, to fuck.

I know we'll fuck again, which will be an added bonus.

But let's call a spade a spade.

At the end of the day, it's just sex, as she knows. Maggie's been well informed. She knows from talking to Kylie and me that I'm not to be taken seriously, which is essentially no different than times prior, every other experience.

_Leave me outta this! That'd be your dick, asshole. Your dick has bagged broads from here to Miami, from here to Vegas. This is different and you know it. _

Inwardly, I rolled my eyes as the cab came to a stop. "Thank you for spending time with me," I whispered, placing a kiss on her forehead.

Maggie let out a short giggle that made me smile wider as I reached into my pocket for some cash. After I paid the driver, I helped Maggie out of the taxi.

She gasped, looking heavenward, her eyes bright, dancing with amusement and surprise. "Wow."

"You're so cute." I placed my arm around her. "Take a quick walk with me first." I ushered us toward the corner.

"Okay." She pulled my jacket tighter around herself.

I squeezed her to my side, hoping to warm her the best I could during our very short walk. Truth be told, I was sure the concierge could provide what I was about to buy—for a small fortune that'd really be small potatoes—but just in case Maggie needed anything, we walked into Duane Reade.

"Do you need anything?" I asked.

Her face blazed red again, but her expression told me it was serious. "Um…" She got on her toes, pulling me down to her. "Condoms," she whispered. "We should get more."

"Really?" I feigned surprise.

"I mean…that's why we're here." Her tone was barely audible, but I heard it.

"Hey…" I widened my arms. "That's not really why we're here." _I selfishly just wanted more time with you without interruptions, the world intruding._ "But…you want it. You got it. I won't protest, say no or otherwise. I'll buy as many condoms as you see fit."

She giggled. "Santino, shhh." Maggie grasped my hand, looking around us.

"I'll get them." I kissed her hair, not wanting to admit it was a purchase I'd intended to make anyway—just in case. "But this is still your show. I just wanted to go someplace where we could hang out alone. Where it'd be warm, quiet…just you and me." _A bed, Jacuzzi, fluffy robes, and room service._

"For that, we can go have coffee, or to some…regular hotel." She shrugged. "I don't mind. I've never been here before, have only heard of it… Santino, we're at the Waldorf," she whispered that last part as if I didn't know where we were.

My lips lingered on her cheek. "We could watch TV, take a nap—whatever you wanna do. I've never been here either, but I wanted…" _to make tonight special, memorable, a night you'll never forget_ "—to take you somewhere nice, better than the roof."

Her breath hitched. "I loved the roof, everything about it."

My stomach knotted while I agreed with her inwardly. "I've heard good things about this hotel. Excellent service, nice rooms…the works. You're a girl who deserves the works—to be treated like a princess." I pulled her into my arms again, wanting to say something that brought me down a notch, off that cloud I'd been floating on. "Never go on a roof with some guy—no matter what, no matter the phase of the moon—ever again." I didn't realize how…odd that'd sound until it left my mouth.

Despite popping her cherry, I'm not delusional; I know I have no real claim to this chick.

_What the fuck was I saying?_

And why couldn't I snap back into the suave fucker I usually am? Over here tripping on my words, rambling like some nutjob. I shouldn't have said anything, left it alone. Since when do I need to, and/or have to, explain a goddamn thing?

Yet, as I paused to backtrack, Maggie spoke up. Her eyes widened and she shook her head. "I won't—I—I mean, not if you don't want me to." Maggie furrowed her brow, only to groan. "That came out wrong. It's not like you'd…encourage me to go on a roof with someone, for whichever purpose. I probably won't see you again after tonight. I meant—"

"I'm sure you'll see me." I palmed her cheek. "I'd bet money on it."

_God, she's beautiful._

An exaggerated sigh escaped me, and I ended it with a groan—to mask it as something more manly.

"Make that sound again." Maggie pushed her tits into me, her hands running up and down my biceps, her eyes dancing on my chest—a new, more relaxed playfulness burning bright. "You're so sexy… Oh gosh. I can't believe I said that," she giggled.

Her demeanor calmed me as well, but I didn't make a sound. As I stared at her lips, my only thought was to claim those fuckers again.

Closing the distance, Maggie said, "Good Lord in heaven," while her hands explored my back. "You're solid—all muscle."

"I work out." I smirked.

"Clearly." She rasped, licking her lips. "I'm crazy thirsty."

Looking around, I escorted her over to the refrigerators. "You want water or a soda?"

"Water's fine."

I grabbed a Fiji, took the cap off, and handed it over.

She gulped, drinking rapidly—making noises as she swallowed.

When she was through, she panted, and I noticed the tiniest droplet trailing down her neck. I bent low to get it, grunting when my lips touched her skin.

"Oh…" She fisted my hair, holding me there.

My nose skimmed her jaw and cheek, my mouth going for hers.

"Evening." The cashier interrupted. "Or, should I say morning?" He was talking to Maggie since his eyes were on her.

I got the hint, and I didn't appreciate the way he eyed Maggie. Open twenty-four hours or not, lingering in a pharmacy wasn't my intention when arriving, and I still had something on the tip of my tongue.

With her hand in mine, I went in search of another item on my mental shopping list. Knowing we'd both had quite a few drinks, and that Maggie might still be sore from our rooftop excursion, I looked for ibuprofen.

I decided to finish our conversation. "Before, what_ I_ meant was…You deserve so much more than that. You're worth a lot more than a quick fuck. In the future, don't let your boyfriend get off cheap." I winked down to her, trying to smile. "You make him work for it, too. They act cheap by treating you cheap, or pressure you in any way, or…mistreat you, do something you dislike, or if you need guy advice, like a dude's perspective, you tell me, call me, whatever the case may be. Doesn't matter." I nodded. "I'll give you my numbers. That way, you have any trouble with anything and you need help, I'll be a call away. Or…" I was rambling, got off track "…you could call just to say hello."

"My boyfriends." She found that funny.

I raised a brow, knowing that I'd more than likely see her in the future with some gangly teenager that I'd yearn to kill—or, at the very least, maim, nonetheless strike the fear of God into him—either in my travels or with Kylie.

"I'm the social pariah of Bishop Ford High School, Santino. A geek to the core." She obviously didn't see herself clearly. "They call me Virgin Mary."

We'd finally made it to the headache aisle. "Not anymore, remember?" I joked.

She smiled, sighing. "Nope. Not anymore."

I waved my finger, another thought provoking my verbal diarrhea.

_Where's the Imodium?_

"That's also no excuse to, you know, to sleep around." I brought my voice down, getting closer. "It's dangerous—you could get sick, crabs, or pregnant." I cleared my throat. "And we both know a baby isn't the worst ramification of sex."

I wanted to stop, but I couldn't, knowing I kinda sounded like my mother in this moment. "Maggie, baby…" I landed a quick smooch on her cheek. "Since you did it, you might feel compelled to do it again…" I blew out a breath "—with someone else." I shrugged, staring at the floor. "And just because you're no longer a virgin, doesn't mean you…rest on your laurels, think it's okay to do it again, or because you like some little fucker. Putting out will only get you used or hurt, not a boyfriend. So, I mean—" I just shut the fuck up because I was about to say that after tonight, she should pretend she's still a virgin, to fight off temptation, and wait 'til she's married.

"You have an itch to scratch in the future, you can call me for that, too." I pointed to myself, feeling like a douchebag. "Wait, that didn't—"

Maggie blinked. "Really? Like…really?" She stepped toward me. "We could…again? After tonight?"

Surprised, I nodded. "Yes. Most def-definitely. Life is complicated and I…can't do anything in the form of an actual commitment."

"I know. Kylie told me…You know that Kylie told me." She rolled her eyes.

"I'm single…" Once again, I wanted to stop talking, but she needed to know. "I think I would…commit to you, _if I could_ because you deserve that. You deserve so much more than I can give you." I wasn't sure about anything, or if what I'd just said made sense.

"Like I said before." I pushed her hair off her shoulder. "But it doesn't have to be sex." I shook my head. "If you're ever in the need of assistance, I'd be more than happy to help you in other ways, ways that _you_ would be using _me_—it'd be about you, not me." I almost swallowed my tongue, feeling desperate in the moment. "I'd…use my mouth." I stared at hers.

She let out a large breath, her fingers lightly pressing to my lips. "Your mouth," she repeated.

"My fingers." My hand spanned her ass.

"Your…" She clamped her eyes closed and banged her forehead into my chest.

"Anything you want." I rested my lips to her hair, wishing I could fuck her right now—right in the pharmacy. "I—" I had to clear my throat "—I'd be servicing you."

"What am I? A Chevy or something?" She looked up at me with innocent eyes. "Servicing?"

I threw my head back and laughed. She'd caught me by surprise, as I didn't see that one coming. "Smart-ass." I yoked her into my side, ushering her down the aisle a few feet.

Maggie giggled. "It can be our secret code. I'll call you and ask you for an oil change."

I opened my mouth, tempted to tell her more about my dipstick. But I just smiled; my thoughts trailed back to our conversation, thinking about…after tonight, thinking about the competitive market that's automotive repairs, mechanics, and the other dipsticks.

No, I can't be Maggie's boyfriend, and there's a list of reasons why, which have nothing to do with another broad. Well, in a manner of speaking, I guess a teeny, tiny broad—my future daughter. But it'd be sweet, fucking ideal, if amongst all the shit in my life, Maggie and I could be friends, friends who fuck on occasion...until life calmed. She doesn't need some fucker, a boyfriend, to tie her down anyway; she's so young, gonna be going to college soon.

I can't carry on with my current lifestyle since I'll have my kid half the week, but there's no way I could live like a monk or some shit.

Maggie's a good person, someone I wouldn't mind being around my child.

We could be friends with benefits.

We could have so much fun, but toying with her heart, knowing she'd likely catch feelings, being so young...

"Never settle for less." My tone was serious again.

That's what I'd be giving her by being casual—less. But she's already slept with me. If she needs to fuck again—I know people have needs—I'd fuck her in a heartbeat. Plus, it's safer, and it'd be more enjoyable. I know _how_ to fuck, _how_ to make her feel good, and I used to be a teenage boy…and I know they don't know a damn thing when it comes to pleasure.

"Besides…dating as a teenager?" I grimaced down to her. "My advice would be to wait until you're in college. Women mature sooner than boys." I perused the shelf, looking for Advil, just plain fucking Advil. And there were so many selections; it pissed me off along with the can of worms I'd spilled, the current conversation. "High school boys are no good. For example, I hope to be as mature as _you_ in the near future, and I'm twenty-seven."

That made her laugh. "I don't have boyfriends. I've never had a boyfriend, obviously." She rolled her eyes. "Nor can I even think of…doing that." She studied her nails.

"I predict that you'll break a few dozen hearts in the coming years." I didn't need a crystal ball to figure that one out. "You _will_ have boyfriends." I found it hard to believe she wasn't the most sought after to fuck, date, to be with at her school. "A beauty like you." I nodded, an odd thought coming to me. "And I'll wanna meet him, make sure he's an OK guy."

She laughed, shaking her head.

"I'm serious." And I was, although my reasoning would be a mixture of sorts. "We're friends. Friends look out for each other."

And I finally found some no-frills Advil.

"Do you have a headache?" she asked.

Turning to answer her, I peeped some dude behind us. He was shopping, his hand resting on some kind of medicine while his eyes raked down Maggie's body, stopping at her legs.

"Can I help you?" There was a tightness in my chest, my teeth gnashing together, as I did not appreciate his ogling. "'The fuck you lookin' at?" I stepped toward him, pushing Maggie behind me at the same time.

He shook his head and scurried away before Maggie could see him.

"What happened?" Worried, she leaned into me.

My hand snaked down to palm her ass, pulling her flush against me. "No, I don't have a headache," but my buzz was disappearing "—and homeboy had a staring problem."

Maggie giggled. "You _are_ awfully handsome, and this _is_ Manhattan."

I grinned. "He wasn't looking at me."

"Oh." Her brows knit together.

I kissed her temple, directing her farther from the scene, and that's when she reminded me of the condoms again.

"You really haven't had enough, huh?" I teased. "That just proves what I was saying before. As a virgin, you didn't know what'chu was missing. Now…? Hey." I shrugged. "You know."

All I knew was that once I'd started having sex, that's all I wanted to do, and fourteen years later…not much has changed. "Now it'll be something you want, quite possibly something you need and crave."

"Santino," she admonished, looking hella cute again. "I can definitely see myself craving_ you_, but... No, I mean—" She scoffed, palming her face.

"Ditto, baby." I winked, not wanting her to be embarrassed about what she said if it was the truth. "Me too."

She sighed, all kinds of adorable, which made me smile wider.

I wanted to take her gorgeous face, her cute nose and her big eyes and place them in my pocket…if it were possible.

My other instinct was to bite her red cheek as my stomach started with its gymnastics again.

Then I shook my head of those thoughts, thinking myself a weirdo.

Who thinks that shit?

_Get it together, Santino!_

I reached for the condoms I always use.

"You remembered," she murmured.

_Was she kidding?_

"How could I forget?" I chuckled. "I shouldn't get the three-pack either, right?" I raised a brow, and I already had the dirty dozen in my sweaty paw. "I'll get the twelve-pack 'cause you have plans? And not of the water balloon variety."

Knowing I was just teasing, she giggled, biting her lips together. "My _big_ plans…" She held her stomach, blowing out a breath—and her bravado, her next words would leave me speechless. "If…I mean, we go by what's in here—" she tapped her temple "—you'd need _more_ than twelve."

A low growl escaped me, rumbled my chest as my cock sprang to life.

That innuendo…how could it not?

"Santino?" Maggie was under my nose now, close. "I was just kidding. Um…We don't, uh, have to do anything." She was nervous again, and I wanted to squash those nerves.

The scent of her hair invaded my senses, and I grabbed a handful, bringing it to my nose, my other hand sliding down her back. And words failed me when I looked into her eyes. Really looked.

Drug stores aren't known for their flattering, dull light, but Maggie looked absolutely stunning in this moment. And accompanied by how I was feeling—the air around us seemed too thin to breathe, but was thick with enough tension you could cut it with a knife—I was afraid I'd maul her in Duane Reade.

"I was just teasing, too," she said, her face red.

"Baby…" I cleared my throat for the hundredth time, like I'd done a mound of yak. "You…you can have _any_ part of me…for as_ long_ as you want, as many _times _as you want." I pulled her into my arms, pushing my erection onto her, needing her to know what she does to me, how she had me feeling—the degree of my attraction, my want, my…need.

"Oh, I…" Maggie was contemplative, but she knew—squirming as she pushed into me, too.

I bit my bottom lip, my hands exploring her body, and I caught my groan before I let it slip.

"Joking about condoms aside, I just want you—to hang out with me." Her arms went around my neck, and she kissed my chin. "Just you, Santino."

"You have me." I blurted, which came as a surprise to me, but that didn't mean my words untrue. They were the absolute truth, however, I mulled over the meaning of my statement—feeling the need to either tone it down or elaborate, lest I hurt her sometime in the future.

"I'm yours…tonight." I'd gone with the former, because, while I yearned to forget my reality, my real life and everything it entails, it was unforgettable. And I did not—under any circumstances—want to hurt her.

Maggie knows tonight is tonight…although I already asked her to dinner.

_Shit. _

I lifted her hand to kiss her knuckles. "Can I have you tonight, too? Just you."

"You already do," she whispered, a sly smirk on those lips. "And you've already _had_ me. And my parents would kill me if they ever found out. Consider me yours until we get to Bay Ridge, Santino. I know the deal…After talking with Kylie about you," she giggled "—and you've been nothing but truthful."

I had to kiss her—right then and there, my mouth attacked hers. She moaned into the kiss when I deepened it, my arms holding her impossibly closer and tighter—so tight she squeaked, which made me ease up. Meanwhile, my tongue and lips were unrelenting.

I got carried away.

A kiss so sloppy, so full of passion…

I'd never kissed anyone quite like this before.

I dropped the Advil, and Maggie pulled away panting when it hit the floor. "Wow," she sighed. "I'm dizzy." She fisted my shirt, holding on.

I'd never admit that I was, too—the store suffocating in this moment.

Worried about my hard cock, I was grateful my shirt was already untucked—hiding my Glock.

I picked up the ibuprofen. "Do you want candy, soda, chips? Anything to pig out on when we watch a movie?" I had no idea if a movie was in our future.

In truth, and overall, I enjoyed being in her presence, her company, which was the reason why we'd ducked out and away from my family—stealing her to come farther uptown.

If I wanted to hit it and just hit it, we coulda hit up Jasper's office, which has a lock.

Again, Maggie was agreeable and browsed the candy selections.

While she did that, I walked about four feet away, something having caught my eye. Leaving our embrace felt foreign, although having her in my arms was very new—something I enjoyed very much.

Nevertheless, I thumbed through the selection in front of me, and settled on a pair of black sweatpants. They had "NYC" and a red apple on the ass. They seemed young, something Maggie might like?

"Put these on." I handed them to her.

She looked around us. "Now?"

They actually didn't have one of those security ink things, and I tore the tag off for the cashier, taking the candy from Maggie's grasp. "Yeah. Put 'em on. It's cold out." It's Halloween, and anyone could see she's wearing a costume, and my jacket for warmth. But still.

No one else would get a gander at those gams.

Maggie giggled, slipping off her heels to shimmy into the pants. "I'll look silly."

"That's impossible." I placed my hand on the small of her back, making sure she was steady.

Once they were on, and with my very large jacket covering her torso, I backed away to admire her while she stepped into her shoes.

Those wings she had on made her shoulders look bulky, her small frame still swimming in my jacket, and then the loose sweats on her bottom—with the tapered ankles and her stilettoed feet on the ground.

I thought she was adorable...and sexy, both, if it's possible.

Also, I swore on my life that no one else on this earth could rock that outfit and look as scandalous as she did.

Maggie stared down to her feet. "I look ridiculous. Oh, this is so embarrassing." She actually reached to take the pants off.

I stopped her. "It's cold out."

"We're just going up the street, to the hotel—"

"Exactly." I wished we'd grabbed a basket, wanting my hands and arms back, wanting to hold her. "We're going right to the hotel."

She nodded. "This is cool." Maggie peered into her small purse. "Maybe I should get the matching sweater. I can wear it home tomorrow." She produced a twenty.

"Put that away," I said.

"You gotta let me pay for some of this…I do have a job now," she said, her eyes widening. "I got my first paycheck yesterday." Maggie seemed proud of herself.

"Good. You save your money." I jerked my head toward the exit.

"But I think I should get the sweater."

I gestured that she could, and that didn't mean I'd changed my mind about taking her shopping—in a manner of speaking.

Maggie complained some more about paying, and I ignored her.

It was the opposite of what I'm used to. Usually, when I'm in a store with a young lady—the only other young lady in my life, Kylie—there's begging and whining for things all the way to the register. Never has anyone pled with me to pay for some shit.

All in all, we truly weren't in there for that long, it only felt like an eternity. With the plastic bags in one hand, I held Maggie's in the other as we strolled up the long avenue—back to the Waldorf.

I was surprised to see how dark it still was, darker than earlier, the darkest before dawn at around four a.m.

The hotel lobby wasn't empty. It wasn't packed with people either. I'd been here for weddings, special occasions, and whatnot. I've just never been a guest here, but I took in the sights with new eyes—loving the décor, how grand, classy, and fucking elegant it was.

Maggie did, too. Her eyes were huge and her head whipped every which way. "I feel like I'm in a movie." She looked down to her clothes. "Ugh. Look at me."

I had been gawking at her.

"I'm the Waldorf Hobo."

"Shut up. You're gorgeous." I approached the counter, placing my arm over Maggie.

Getting a room was easy; they had vacancies, but having some knowledge about the place, I had some specifications.

Maggie had since backed away to give me privacy during the transaction, and I brought my voice down even lower. "I'd like one of the presidential suites—up in the towers." I opened my wallet and then plopped a black Amex down, and I had to do a double take, make sure it was mine—said Santino A. Cullen on the bottom.

"Oh." The clerk seemed taken aback. "Yes, sir." She typed away on her computer. "One bedroom—" she glanced at Maggie "—or?" turning back to glare at me before her judgmental stare had gone to Maggie again.

"One bedroom." I narrowed my eyes, wondering what the fuck her problem was. "Overlooking Park Avenue, please."

"Excellent." She nodded at her computer. "And how long will you be staying with us?"

I sighed, turning to Maggie, contemplative, and that's when I realized why that cunt behind the counter was being a bitch with the looks.

From my kisses and our activities, almost all of Maggie's makeup was gone, making her look fresh-faced and even younger than she was.

_What the fuck was I doing? Who was I? Humbert, fucking Herbert-the-Pervert or whatever, and Maggie was my Lolita? _

No, I've never read that book, but I googled it after watching a Lolita-inspired porn flick.

My thoughts made me cringe and hiss, as a vision of Maggie in pigtails rapidly flashed in my brain.

"Sir…?"

"This wasn't planned…" I explained, taking another hurried peek at Maggie "—a spur of the moment whim-type thing. We were at a club, celebrating Halloween, already uptown, and it's late." I had no idea why I was talking.

Maggie had taken my glance as an invitation. She nestled into my side again, which was welcomed. The simple gesture—her coming to stand by my side—filled me with something and it was comforting. It felt...familiar in the best way.

"Sir, will you just be staying for the day, or…? "

I cleared my throat. "I'd rather play it by ear, but I know youse need that information. How 'bout…book it 'til Wednesday. If my stay is longer, I'll let you know before then." With or without Maggie, I still needed that leave of absence, and some time away from Katie would be good—would be fucking spectacular. I'd definitely be using my time here to clear my head.

_Yeah, clear my head without people buzzing in my ears._

It's not like I'm on the lam, legit running away or traveling far.

_I'm in Midtown, which is a joke in itself, and it ain't no vacation. _

"Okay." She reached to take my Amex and driver's license off the counter. Since my plans for tonight or otherwise weren't untoward, she got my real credentials. "You said you'd like to pay cash. This is just so we have it on file—"

"You don't have to explain," I said, knowing the deal.

"Before check-out, we can print the bill and go over it with you."

"Whichever." If it ended up on my credit card, it wouldn't be a big deal. That flashy thing would actually get a good workout since I hardly use it, yet pay the associated fees for the fringe benefits. But guessing that my stay might end in the ten-grand ballpark, I thought about my taxes and shit.

_Wiseguy rule number one: you can't live beyond your means, your taxable means. _

_Cash leaves less of a trail, no trail in most cases, and I needed to be audited by the IRS like I needed a hole in my head. _

I exchanged another glance with Maggie, which reminded me. "Uh, can I place a room service order here?"

By the expression on…Cathy's face, I didn't think so, but she agreed anyway.

"Hungry?" I asked Maggie.

She gave me a short nod.

We ordered two grilled cheese sandwiches with fries, sodas—I'd insisted on something simple. Sure, we could have gotten a four-course meal. And while I wanted to spoil Maggie, I didn't want to intimidate her with some shit.

I ordered us some champagne, though.

_It's classy…good manners and shit_.

Before we turned for the elevators, Cathy asked, "Do you need a wake-up call?"

I thought about that as I took in Maggie's attire, and the thought of shopping made me grimace. I love shopping, but time is of the essence. I didn't wanna spend what little we have at some boutique or department store.

Yes, I'd said I'd buy her new clothes. I know she won't hold me to it, and she'd wear her costume home if not for the sweats, but…I did say I'd get her new clothes, and I also said I'd take her out to dinner.

There's a swanky Japanese sushi joint not far from here that I haven't tried yet.

"Youse have those personal shoppers here, right?"

"We provide an array of services, yes." She looked from Maggie to me.

"Cool. That can be our wake-up call." I grinned down to Maggie. "Have someone come…with some casual wear and evening wear—something suitable for Kuruma Zushi—and have them bring other things." I turned back to the clerk. "We obviously have no luggage…use your imagination."

Cathy continued to type, a grin pulling at the side of her mouth. "Sir, usually…It's _customary_ the stylist meets with the client first."

"Current fashions," I said. "She's young, twenty-two," I lied about her age but was glad I could fit it into the transaction. "What size are you?"

"What?" Maggie hissed.

"What size?" I asked again.

"I'd need to know all of your measurements. Shoe size to bra size, to relay it to the shopper, ma'am." Cathy smiled at her.

Maggie had wide eyes. "Santino, this—I don't understand."

"This is Manhattan, and we're wealthy…darrrling," I drawled, trying not to laugh as I teased her, but she didn't think my words funny.

Maggie gaped at me, and I realized that maybe she didn't understand.

"We don't gotta go shopping." I thumbed her bottom lip. "The stores can come to us."

I had no idea if that was true for other people, but I'm used to getting my way right away. If you throw enough money around anything is possible and the sky's the limit—no matter your location. If Cathy the concierge couldn't make it happen, I'd call my suit guy who knows mad heads in the fashion industry.

Maggie was still puzzled, and I sighed, turning to the counter. "Can you make us a reservation for Kuruma Zushi, too?"

"Yes, sir," Cathy said. "What time would you prefer?"

"Santino—" Maggie pulled on my sleeve.

I put up a finger to silence her. "Seven…You like sushi, right?" I asked Maggie.

Her cheeks were turning pink. "I—"

"Seven'll be perfect," I answered Cathy and ushered Maggie a few feet away. "Shut up." My tone was soft but assertive. "You can either give homegirl your sizes, or let me guess, and then the clothes won't fit. You pick." I wondered what was difficult to understand. "I said I'd take you shopping for new clothes. You're getting them." I pointed at her.

Never in my life had I argued over something as trivial.

_Well, Maggie didn't exactly protest, but I got the impression she would. _

I thought it best to stop her while she was ahead.

Because I wasn't budging.

_Since when do broads say no when you wanna buy them something? _

Most of my buddies—who are married or otherwise, or married _and _otherwise—complain about their chicks and money, how expensive it is to keep a woman happy.

My sister tells me all the time about the things she wants, wishing Gio was loaded. Amelia's giving Dame a run for his money, too—always going here and there, insisting they go to expensive restaurants. My father spends an obscene amount of money on my mother, and sometimes for no reason at all. It's the same with Uncle Carlisle when it comes to Aunt Alex.

Back in the day, while with Katie, I was in high school and broke. But when I hit sixteen, I was already hustling here and there. And I'd always done a lot around the house for Mom, doing whatever-the-fuck for Dad. I'd also babysit, earning myself a decent allowance. Katie always got _something _for holidays and on her birthday...and if I was ever a dick to her.

Alas, that was some puppy-love shit. I think I've come a long way from buying a stuffed animal with hopes I'd get to second base.

_Now, as a man…I could afford a great deal more than a fucking Beanie Baby. _

I don't wine and dine women on the reg. And I've never done anything like this; I knew I might have been going overboard, but it felt good.

I rarely travel or take real vacations. Especially during the last couple of years because I've been busier, doing more for Dad, having more responsibilities. Even so, I still manage to make it out to Vegas once a year for business and pleasure.

However, I never do anything elaborate or luxurious, and I _never _spend money on myself. My father owns the building I live in. Therefore, I don't pay any rent for the apartment. Every vehicle I own is paid for, and my hard work _has_ paid off, excessively well. I have money hidden everywhere, could probably retire now and live a very modest, but happy, life if I wanted to, having saved my money since I started earning.

And making capo…forget about it.

_What's the point of having money if you can't enjoy it sometimes? _

I've been responsible my whole life, my whole fucking life I've done the right things, the sensible and logical things, what's best for others and those around me. I've sacrificed my own happiness more times than I can count to appease others.

Again, I _always_ do the _right_ thing, and I'm tired of it.

Not that what I'm doing now is wrong…although a tinge irresponsible.

Fuck that. I'mma be a father in a couple months. And then I won't be able to do this, get away, nothing. My life will no longer be my own; meanwhile, it's become very clear in this moment that I haven't really been living…huh?

Clubbing, partying, all the women—yeah, that's living, but it got old a couple years ago. And my plans to settle down, marry Katie, didn't work out.

I wanted nothing with the woman I'd planned to share forever with.

_Fuck her and fuck it all. _

I felt good in this moment, and I felt silly foregoing a filet mignon for grilled cheese.

And I had a beautiful woman who'd be spending some time with me.

"This is ridiculous. I don't understand why you're…" At a loss, Maggie continued to stare at me, her furrowed brow adorable. "Santino—"

Any irritation I'd had about the possible squabble flew out the window. I'd placed my fingers in my ears. "Like I said, some day I'll be as mature as you. La, la, la, la, la."

She wasn't amused.

I didn't give a fuck and pointed to Cathy.

Maggie huffed and then gave the clerk the detailed information. Then, since I needed a suit, I jotted down my measurements as well, uttering one word: Armani.

I'd asked Maggie to dinner, and I was taking her, and I wanted to look good, knowing she'd look delectable on my arm. But I totally forgot about needing to take her home and all that, not knowing how much time we actually had together.

"Have them arrive around three this afternoon?" I asked. "And that's the only interruption…I'm not taking any calls or visitors unless otherwise announced."

"Very good, sir." She handed me a brochure. "Here's a list of our spa treatments and packages."

"Thank you."

"Enjoy your stay." She slid the keycards across the counter.

I held them tightly, gave them a squeeze before grabbing a c-note from my pocket. "I definitely will... Thank you."

The large tip didn't seem to faze her, but I didn't give a fuck. "Let's go." I smiled, pushing Maggie toward the elevators.

"You gave her a hundred dollars." Maggie's tone was breathy.

"You want one, too?" Yeah, I was in that great a mood, ready to give money away.

"No!" She snorted. "I'm just—"

Luck was on our side as an elevator arrived right away.

Maggie was quiet during the ride, and I wondered what happened. She hadn't pulled away from me by any means. She just stopped talking, making an uncomfortable silence loom.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Nothing." She turned to stare up at me. "You didn't have to do all that, don't have to do all this…or…is this what you do with…with women?" She made it sound like I have a different one every week.

"If I did, I'd be broke," I said. "No…I know I've said this a few times tonight. But complicated can only begin to describe some aspects of my life...and all I wanna do is have fun with you. Just let me."

The last thing I wanted to do was tell her how I'd been Katie's yo-yo, her schmuck for years—tell her about the joy I'd felt when finding out I was having a baby girl, how ecstatic I was when Katie decided she'd be leaving her husband and moving in with me . . .

Divulging all of that would lead to telling her about the fighting, the shouting, the fucking tears, and all the anxiety—the fact that nothing really changed with the new developments; I was still fucking unhappy and dejected.

Revealing how stupid I was, that my dumb ass was still willing to marry her despite it all, sign myself up for a lifetime of misery. Whatta idiot I was. For the sake of "doing the right thing."

I was over the moon when my mother threatened bodily harm, disownment, and dismemberment. That she'd beat me senseless if I married Katie but didn't love her.

And then having to admit that I'm utterly indifferent now, that my willingness to tolerate Katie and be amicable was only because of our child.

Confess that—if not for the baby—I'd sooner push Katie off a bridge than make sweet love to her.

_No, I can't tell that last one to anyone. Stranger things have happened. What if Katie…was suddenly propelled from some high point? I'd be suspect number one_.

But I also yearned to tell Maggie—tell her everything that makes my life fucked-up.

Because, regardless of complications, _I was here_—present and accounted for, mind, body, and soul—_with her_ right now. She should know that I don't do this with every woman, and then maybe she'd feel special? As special as she made me feel?

Maybe she'd understand the complexities in my life, know that I'm more than just some broody brute with a cash flow who's a decent lay…?

That tonight, for the first time in a while, I don't feel dragged down in the dumps, morose, or pessimistic? Let her know how light, hopeful, and happy she made me feel? That it's her who's been encouraging my carefree demeanor?

No. I'd only tell her about my life, let her in, but all that stuff about her and how _she_ made me feel…? I'd sound insane. Maggie would think I was crazy. I know I would if some chick confessed something like that, rambling like a nut.

Before I managed stop myself, I started to explain. I felt I owed it to Maggie, after hearing that "complicated" excuse more than once.

_Who was she going to tell? _

And I wanted us to be friends, too.

Our trip to the thirtieth floor wasn't a lengthy ride. Though it was long enough for me to tell her about Katie and more about myself—provided I didn't go into too many details.

I wanted it all—all that bullshit out of the way before we entered the suite.

"Kylie told me a lot." Maggie nodded, solemnly, refusing to look up at me. "She's angry with Katie for hurting you."

"My sister loves her gossip." If it ain't illegal activities, they're all blabbermouths—my whole family.

Maggie may know some about Katie, about me, and my family. But unless she's seen my mug in the paper, or heard my name on the news, she has no idea what I do for a living, who I allegedly am. So far, she's given me no indication that she did.

"I can't believe her, though. When Kylie told me, I was shocked…Katie knew the baby was yours for a whole month and didn't tell you?" She frowned, taking my hand.

I kissed her palm. "Yeah…but that's…water under the bridge." The bell dinged, we'd arrived at our floor. "Ready?" I gestured for her to leave.

Maggie didn't know if she should go right or left.

Assessing the few suite numbers rapidly, I led her to our right. "This way…"

She stopped, turning to face me. "You must be heartbroken."

I opened my mouth to respond, but I didn't know what to say.

Yeah, I've been a motherfucker with my attitude lately, but that's attributed to my trying to be Katie's friend, the anxieties of being an expectant father, being crazy busy with work, and…my living arrangement…and being depressed in general, which I was before Katie and I got back together.

But…was I_ truly_ heartbroken?

Or just a sad asshole?

After realizing that separating was for the best, taking in all that was logical, I honestly felt as though . . .

Even in this moment, I couldn't accurately describe it.

"I was disappointed, but heartbroken...?" I had to think on that some more.

I'd had it in my head for years, in my heart, that if Katie and I just got back together, all of my problems would disappear. I'd finally have my girl, the one and only woman I'd ever loved—the one that got away, _the _one.

We could get married, finally start having babies…I'd have all those things I thought I'd lost when we'd broken up. I'd be whole again. Matrimony, domestic bliss, yadda yadda, and I'd stop it with the petty tit-and-ass garbage. I'd have everything I'd need in Katie.

Again, I've come a long way from my teenage self.

Katie was my high school sweetheart; she'd yet to be _my woman_.

No matter the initial, empty joy of getting back together with Katie, there was still a void. Nothing changed. I still existed without having lived.

Not drowning but wading the water with tired arms, waiting for a lifesaver or a boat to row by; meanwhile, the shore was on the horizon. I could have swum to it and saved myself.

For whatever reason, while banking on Katie, I never fucking tried to date other women. Broads would use me, and I'd use them for what I wanted, what I needed from them, which was companionship, a date to some engagement, or…what's between their legs.

I'm the type of dude ladies can have fun with.

Not even companionship. None of them knew me. Case in point, over the summer, I had a short fling with this chick from down the Jersey shore. I'd stayed at my parents' place a few weekends, was seeing this blonde…and she thought my name was Tony and I was a stockbroker from Queens. The sex was decent. I took her to Joe's Crab Shack a few times, but none of it mattered.

I never gave anyone a chance to know _me_.

It all seems…inconsequential.

I honestly didn't give a fuck, but it also seemed silly now, dumb.

_What the fuck was I hiding from? _

Sometimes, I think waiting on Katie was all an excuse.

The truth might be that I was having too much fun, living fast, doing what I wanted, until it became mundane and unfulfilling.

I'm not that deep, nor am I a complex individual.

Fucking around was fun, and I never saw the point of settling if I still planned on being a…connoisseur of pussy.

And that's also something Katie couldn't or wouldn't understand.

I'm a lot of things, but I respect the sanctity of marriage. That's the way I was raised, shit my father's drilled into me for a long time, since I was a kid. He warned me when becoming wrapped up in the lifestyle. There are a few aspects _he'd never_ accept from _me_.

Notwithstanding what others do, he told me it's one or the other—single or married—there's no in-between. I could either stay single and get mine, sleep with whoever the fuck, or settle down, and the two worlds don't intertwine; I can't have or do both, which is dishonorable in his eyes.

Granted, what happens behind closed doors isn't his business, like what others do. But that man's been in my business since I got my first dick hair.

_It was gonna kill me to keep this—Maggie—a secret from him. No, I already told him we'd fucked. But I know, just like I knew last night, he didn't approve—equating Maggie to Kylie, seeing them both as children. _

I'd been groomed into becoming his closest confidant and business associate.

And if I could cheat on my wife, a woman I'd sworn to love and honor to death in front of God and a church full of people, what's to say I won't betray him?

If I can't stay loyal to a woman, how can I be loyal in other facets of life?

_It made sense. _

It all went back to that age-old saying, "A man is only as good as his word."

_And actions speak louder…_

"I don't think so…I haven't loved Katie, nor have I legit been _in love_ with her in a long, long time," I admitted. "Not since I was in high school, and…" My shoulders drooped, hoping to drop the subject because I didn't feel comfortable telling her the ugly truth.

Even during our best days, back when I was a teen and even as a preteen, I never _fell_ in love with Katie, nor had I ever been _in love_ with her. I'd _grown_ to love and care for her, and there's a difference. And I couldn't believe how blinded I was, how fucking stupid…

_Self-discoveries are a motherfucker and a half! _

"But still." That frown marred her pretty face. "Your head must be filled to the max…upset about all that stuff." She trailed off in a whisper.

"I'm okay." I grabbed Maggie's hand, thinking her concern cute. "That's why I left everything—" I waved my free hand "—I left all that crap down in the lobby. Metaphorically speaking." I grinned, stepping closer to hover. "Let's go have some fun…"

She was still stuck in her own head, not smiling but not frowning.

"This isn't something I do ever, certainly not often. Maggie, I haven't taken a woman out to dinner, on a 'date' in months," I explained, although I wasn't sure what more she wanted from me.

She stared, quite the skeptic. "I find that hard to believe. _You…?_" Her tone was disbelieving.

"I don't even know what a 'date' entails, really. Small talk, hopes to get laid...?" I'd hoped to make her laugh, but I had no such luck.

If this was any other broad, and with the amount of money I'd already spent, I'd earned the right to sex—pussy—without needing to talk any more.

She finally smiled, albeit sadly, placing her hand flat on my chest. "I'm young."

I nodded.

"I've never done anything like this before." Her eyes were instantly glassy, and I wanted to vomit—anything but fucking tears.

"Relax." I hugged her tightly. "Just relax. What is it that's bothering you?" The elevator sounded again, another one, and I knew it was our food. "You were fine before…less than an hour ago." For the life of me, I didn't know what'd changed.

We stood in front of the room now, and I was adamant about not bringing any drama into the suite. We might have looked crazy, camping out in the hall, but I showed the waiter our keycard, signed for the food, and tipped him before he left.

If Maggie changed her mind and wanted to go home, I'd take her.

It was never my intention to make her unhappy.

"Hmmm?" With privacy, I gathered her into my arms again. "You wanna go home?"

She moved out of my embrace, not answering my question. "I'm not stupid."

"I never said you were." I furrowed my brow. "Maggie, if I've done something to offend you…" Not sure how to continue, I shut up, hoping she'd tell me what the problem was.

If it was the hotel, my spending money, I'd take it all back. We could hit up a Super 8. I'd take her to fucking IHOP via mass transit, and then I'd try to hit it on the subway…if slumming it was her thing.

Maggie remained silent as the seconds ticked by, ticking me off.

"Fuck that. What's wrong?" Immediately, I regretted my hostile tone. "I'm sorry. We're just so close." I jerked my head to the room, hoping she understood my meaning.

She bit her quivering lip, and I knew she was trying to her hardest not to cry. "I know things are complicated…in here." She pointed to her head. "I know you don't love me, we're not gonna get married. Like, I know that tonight is just tonight. That come Monday…" she laughed without humor "—despite what happened last night, and what happens today, I'll go home. I'll be Virgin Mary again."

"But you're not a virgin," I whispered.

Her eyes widened as though she'd made some sort of revelation. "My coach will turn into a pumpkin. My Prince Charming…he'll disappear, too. My fairy tale will be over, and that's—that's incredibly disappointing, and I can't help it…that I'm thinking about that." Her face crumpled for the briefest of seconds. "You can…you can hurt me, break me without even knowing it. I don't know if you'd care, either, and that bothers me."

I nodded, understanding everything she'd said, but I didn't have an answer.

_Oh, to be a teenager again…when everything's so fucking dramatic. _

I cringed, hoping she didn't see it.

"Tonight's been overwhelming." She blinked at the ceiling. "You overwhelm me, Santino…In all senses."

I wiped whatever remained of her tears away with my thumbs. "I'd never hurt you…not intentionally. I'd never want to do you harm." That was the last thing I'd ever want to do, and I hoped she believed me. "I can't make promises, and I never would if I _couldn't_ keep them."

Maggie gave me a small nod but wouldn't look me in the eyes.

I slouched low, needing to see those peepers. "We did what we did at Midnight Sun, but _I_ need this." I widened my arms. "Whether you chill with me or I take you home…I honestly got the room for myself. This is _my_ getaway that I hoped to share with you."

"Really?" she sniffled, her nose pink.

"Really." With a small grin, I nodded and touched my knuckle to her lips. "Maggie, having you with me…it's an added bonus, the best bonus I can think of. I'm offering you friendship, since we've known each other all of…" I tried to think back "—eight hours, and just let me spoil you." I pulled her into my arms. "Let me care for you. Let me please you," I whispered. "Let me try to make up for all that you've given me…and all I want in return is your friendship."

Maggie was hesitant, rigid within the embrace. "Um…all of that is misleading. I thought we'd have a one-night stand, like in movies?" She peered up to me. "Then…we'd go our separate ways, never see each other again." Maggie had a plan, too, it seemed. "You doing all that other stuff…?" She actually frowned only to gulp, her face draining of some color. "You overwhelm me." I'd barely heard her. "That's the only way I can describe…all this."

"You live across the street from my parents' house. It's not like we'll never see each other again." I chuckled. She's silly if she thought that. "It's not like I'd let you get away."

As it was…I felt strange, as if I couldn't possibly continue without acknowledging that she was a part of my life? I didn't know how to un-know Maggie? It was weird.

"Just trust me...like you did earlier." Whether she wanted it or not, I placed my lips to hers. It only took a second for her to deepen it, to moan into my mouth, to writhe against me...which was an unexpected surprise. The way she'd been talking, I expected a slap or something.

Pinning her to the door, I still needed an answer. "Be my friend." I kissed her hair and her forehead and then each eyebrow before going back to her lips. "My beautiful friend I can spend money on…just say yes."

She giggled. "I can be your friend, but..." She scrunched her nose. "Everything downstairs, giving that lady my sizes for some personal shopper…? Santino, that was weird and unnecessary."

"It was something I wanted to do." I haven't been around my parents' place in a while. Katie was doing her best to be needy, keep me from my family. But from what I remembered, Maggie wore clothes that weren't very ladylike? I knew they weren't flattering, and maybe her parents were doing their best to make sure she resembled a little girl for a while longer. I just wanted to see her dressed to the nines, have her feeling beautiful in case she doesn't in her normal garb.

I also remembered last night, Maggie talking about how Kylie wanted to transform her into this hottie, and Maggie mentioning she'd been borrowing my sister's clothes. _That's crap_. She should and would have her own.

"You'll learn to deal with it." I smirked. "I can't propose marriage, or promise you a…whirlwind romance like one of your movies—" that made her giggle and me smile wider. "I can't promise _every_day, but I _can_ promise you sometimes. We'll keep in touch, you know? We can meet, chill, have dinners…" That was something I could definitely agree to since I enjoyed her company so much.

It was something new to look forward to as well. "I'm always busy, Maggie, and that's not something people fully grasp; they never get it. They say they understand, understand that my work comes first—because my work _will always_ come first—but inevitably there's always a problem. But, I _can_ promise that…" I thought about my next words wisely, mulling them over, wondering if I should promise such a thing.

If she agreed to it as well, it would be an appealing thought; it'd be worth it. "As long as you're, that _we're_ sleeping together—" I gestured between us "—I won't sleep with anyone else, provided you don't. You'd only be fucking me, no one else, and I'd extend you the same courtesy."

_That didn't come out as smoothly as I'd hoped_.

And Maggie…fuck, she looked confused.

"That's called safe sex." I swallowed, my mouth dry. "Unless you had plans to be…promiscuous." Letting that hang there was awkward, but I was pleased with my word choice.

"No!" She rushed out. "I don't. Not at all."

"Okay." My head whipped to and fro, taking in our surroundings, the fucking hallway. And I wondered what I'd have to say to get her into the room.

Maggie was about to say something, but I cut her off.

"I need time…to figure a whole mess of shit out before I commit to any one person, and it wouldn't be fair for me to promise you something…when we don't even know what's up. We don't even know each other." I hated that a chuckle escaped, but this was getting a little ridiculous.

"Agreeing to be exclusive sexually—that I can promise. It's a little early to…" I knew what her reluctance was, as I was able to understand. And I know I talk a good game, continuing with my words when they were unnecessary. "You don't even know me," I laughed, remembering her age, the roof...

_What the fuck?_ My brain was shouting at me.

"Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. You _are_ young, and you probably just don't understand…When you're older, you'll _learn_ to understand that men and women…can be casual, that after a few years…sex is just sex, and it has little to do with love _and a lot more_ to do with lust—it's just a release, not so much about desire but fulfilling sexual urges." I took a deep breath.

"They say everyone remembers their first, but trust me…Maggie, baby—" I grabbed her hand "—in a couple weeks, months, it'll just be a memory, and in a couple years…you won't even remember me." It really was laughable if I thought about it—how we grow up and evolve, and there's no magic to a damn thing.

Maggie took her hand back, wiping her palm on the sweats, and her expression was unreadable.

What the fuck was I thinking? Taking her here? What did I hope to accomplish? No, deep down, I just wanted to sleep with her again, and doing all this…it's because I know she's young, might have been impressed, think herself special, let me do whatever I wanted with her, and every outlandish gesture might just soften the blow when I dropped her off at home with an empty promise to call.

"Things seem serious now…so serious. Because it's new and you're young. But…Maggie, I'm not Prince Charming, and this is no fairy tale. You—"

When I noticed her head was down, saw her tears falling onto the carpet, her arms around her body in a self-hug, I stopped talking.

And I felt as though I'd just told her that Santa wasn't real, the Easter Bunny was a hack, the stepsisters had a threesome with the Prince behind Cinderella's back, Sleeping Beauty never woke up, the dwarves ran a train on Snow White—you name it, I felt like I'd just shit on any hope or idea of love this poor girl had in her head.

"I'm not saying I wanna be your girlfriend," she whispered. "I never said that, and I don't…wanna be your girlfriend."

"Oh…" I nodded. "So, what's the problem?"

"I don't have one." She turned away from me to wipe her eyes. "Maybe I'm getting my period."

I smiled at her back, because that's the best fallback, foolproof, and bullshit excuse for getting emotional. "Okay," I rasped. "I'm sorry for saying what I did." I wanted to tell her I didn't mean a word of it, that despite being jaded and bitter, and after being hurt, very disappointed and betrayed, I still believed in love. "Maggie, I—"

"No." She sniffled, turning to face me. "No, you're right. Kylie told me…you were…easy, and I wanted to lose my virginity." Maggie stood a little taller but wouldn't look at me again. "I should be apologizing for using you, or…thanking you for the opportunity?"

My brows rose and I felt like I'd been kicked in the gut, which was an odd turn of events. "Yeah…You can always count on Santino for a good time," I joked and let out a short sigh. "No need to apologize or thank me. The pleasure was all mine." I forced a smile.

If she felt the need, if I took her home, and I wanted to get laid in my glorious hotel suite, I could make a phone call. Pay someone to blow me and be my friend. I could have also said just about anything to make her stay, promised Maggie the world just so I could have my way—drop her off at home, and then never contact her again.

In all honesty, if she was a little older, if she had a better comprehension of how shit worked…if she wasn't _Maggie_, the irresistible, perfect…possibly the girl of my dreams, that'd probably happen.

Any other broad would get flowers the following day and a promise to call, or I'd possibly give her the wrong phone number on purpose.

I've done that before. It's not something I'm proud of, but it's happened, and yet I kept telling myself this was different.

Or…did_ I_ just want it to be different? Fabricating feelings, emotions, because I'm tired of the emptiness, the meaningless crap?

No, this had to be different, since I feel different. It's unlike every time before, and I've been nothing but truthful. And everything I've done, I did because I wanted to—for her. To give her a whole lot more than what she'd get just from spending the night with me.

_Because I was ready to beg Maggie to enter that room with me. _

The thought of her leaving…without us chillin' a little while longer…I didn't wanna think about it.

While her admission of using me to lose her virginity stung a little, I felt better about the situation. Maybe neither one of us would be hurt in the long run? There's a mutual understanding?

"You don't want me to be your boyfriend. You just said it." I shrugged, unaware of what we were still talking about. "We don't have to fuck either." That was the last time I'd say that shit, though. "We're friends."

I put the keycard into the slot, granting us entrance. "You've got nothin' to lose, baby…You were lookin' to lose your cherry, and you did. That'll be the _last_ thing you lose." I pushed the food cart into the room, deciding I wouldn't be taking no for an answer.

We'll eat, chill, take a nap, who cares?

"I promise…I'll behave." I grabbed her hand, pulling her into the room to close the door with my foot. "I'll be on my best behavior." My nose touched hers. "Just spend the day with me. That's it. I'll let you go…I promise." I grinned, pushing her hair behind her ear. "Same rules apply. I do something you dislike—_except when it comes to spending my money_—you speak up. It'd never be my intention to hurt you or disrespect you, baby." I wanted to kiss her so badly, but her company was worth more than that…the physical garbage, which is anything but garbage.

* * *

**Thank you for reading.**

**Please leave me your thoughts**

**I know it was long, but I fleshed out a lot of Sonny's feelings...because I didn't during Riders and it's a refresher.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. No copyright infringement is intended. **

**Beta'd by HollettLA.**

* * *

**Chapter Two **

I'd tasted the fruit already, took a big bite outta the forbidden apple.

Controlling myself was going to be a challenge.

But I love a challenge.

In fact, I'm never faced with many. Not when it comes to this crap—the ladies. They're usually the aggressive ones, getting at me. I'm preyed upon, to be honest. This reversal of roles, my being the predator, was also amusing to an extent.

She nodded. "Okay."

"Okay." I backed up, taking a deep breath to double lock the door.

"Oh my God!" she shouted. "Look at this place!"

I chuckled, not really caring about the room, or what it looked like.

After such a long night, the first thing I did was get comfortable. Rolling around on that filthy roof—which I do not regret—had my suit wrinkled, unkempt-looking, and from being at the club, drinking all that I had, and after getting laid…I felt sticky and tired.

Right in the foyer, and while Maggie explored the rooms, I kicked off my shoes and stripped down to my boxers.

And then…I called my sister.

I knew she might be sleeping, still drunk, or still partying. I had no idea if she'd answer, but I had to try.

_"__Herro…"_ She picked up on the fourth ring, her voice groggy.

"It's me," I said.

_"__I have caller ID, Sonny." _

I smiled.

_"__Sonny!"_ she shouted, surprised now. _"Holy crap! Where's Maggie?" _

"She's here, with me…" I paused a minute.

_"__And _where_ are you?"_ she asked_. "Oh my God. I was about to pass out. I got sick—Mom got sick, too. So Dad was making us drink water and take pills…which was crap, and he was complaining he can't take us anywhere, being such a crab-ass. You know how he gets,"_ she rambled. _"But now, you call, and I'm suddenly sober, bro. You got my attention. Do I have enough time to make popcorn?" _

I rolled my eyes. "You just want the gossip."

_"__You had sex with Virgin Mary,"_ she scolded through a whisper. _"Of course, I want the gossip. I want details! All of them, even the gross ones." _

"Those gross details…" I laughed, peeping Maggie in my periphery. She was looking out the large window, checking out the view. "I have nothing gross to report back, but I know what you mean." I went to the wet bar to make myself a drink. "I'll let Maggie fill you in on those, if you don't mind…Me and you, we're close, Ky…but that part of my life…it's not vital you know—"

_"__Blah, blah, blah. Get on with it. Why'd you call then?"_ She yawned.

"'Cause…when Dad wakes up, he's gonna ask you where Maggie is."

_"__You shoulda done brought her back here already,"_ she whispered into the phone. _"He waited up a bit, thinking youse were right behind us, on your way home... He wondered where youse were, too, because he was in the mood to get breakfast. He was either talking out his ass, or he doesn't know you at all…Like you took Maggie to some quaint diner in Brooklyn for some eggs over easy,"_ Kylie snickered. _"I'd never burst his bubble, say what you were really doing…He literally just went to bed two minutes ago and—"_

She yawned again. _"Oh, what have youse been doing?" _

I winced. "Tell me more about the shit with Dad. _And_…? And, what? Continue with that."

_"__And nothing…I pretended Maggie texted me twenty minutes ago."_ She continued to keep her voice down. _"As far as Dad knows, she's across the street, snug in her bed, and you're on Fourth Avenue—at the apartment with Katie. And he laughed, thinking you were getting your ass chewed by Katie, said he wouldn't wanna be you. But he was drunk, so I'm sure he'll ask about Maggie again, and then I'll remind him of our convo from earlier,"_ she sighed. _"Once I fall out, I probably won't wake up until dinner time…same with them. I wouldn't worry about it, Sonny." _

"I love you, Kylie…You're a ballbuster, a pain in the ass, but you're brilliant." I meant that shit as I poured some scotch into a glass.

_"__I'm used to sneaking around them. Simple always works best. You keep it simple. You harp on this or that and they start sniffing, can smell something's wrong. Don't contact Mom or Dad today. Leave it alone. Plus…"_ She paused, and I wondered what that was about, what would stop her rambling, ranting-ass. _"Maggie's with you and I trust you. I know she's safe." _

"You always have this…crazy amount of faith in me." I took a few rapid sips of my drink before grabbing another small bottle of Johnny Walker Black. "Thank you." I noticed the sun would be coming up in a few minutes.

_"__Is she…safe, Sonny?"_ she whispered.

I looked to the ceiling, exasperated, 'cause that's not what I call faith. "She's fine."

_"__I don't mean physically... We never got the chance to talk or anything. I just can't imagine what she must be feeling,"_ she mused. _"Losing your virginity, being swept off your feet with no guarantees. I was with Gio forever, loved him so much, and I trusted him, had known him since…we were born—"_ she giggled _"—but I was still scared my first time. Do you know how scary it is for a girl? Before you shit-talk me, I know you. Also…she'd never even seen a peen before…before yours, which is intimidating…"_

"My _cock_ is intimidating?" I whispered and thought that shit was hilarious, no matter how disgusting it was coming from her mouth. "How would _you_ know?"

_"__No! You, Sonny. 'Cause YOU can be intimidating,"_ Kylie laughed. _"Imagine having, like…a King Kong-sized dick?"_

I shook my head. "All men like to think they already do," I spoke the truth.

_"—__basketball-sized balls,"_ she'd kept going, talking over me, _"geez, that'd rip a bitch in half!" _

"Kylie…" I chuckled, unsure of how to change the subject.

_"__I'm just saying. Imagine?" _

"I don't wanna." I was honest. "So, um…Maggie's cool." I was hoping to get our conversation back on track. "Scary, you said?"

_"__Yeah…Especially Maggie. I mean, she's crazy religious, but she's never mentioned waiting 'til marriage. She just…like, I told you at the restaurant not to screw her 'cause you'd never get rid of her. Girls get like that—" _

"Not Maggie," I said, taking a glance around and not seeing her.

_"—__they get clingy."_ She'd continued as if I hadn't spoken again. _"And she told me she wanted her first kiss to be with a boyfriend, but she kissed you, did more than that." _

"First kiss?" I mouthed.

_"__You must have mad skills. I can't believe you guys had sex!" _

I didn't say anything.

_"__Anyway, I'm kinda glad…She's such a goodie-goodie, she made me feel like a whore for screwing my boyfriend. And I've heard of some disastrous first times, but Maggie was smiley—talking about how amazing it was, something about a moon-roof, and limos are sexy. I can't believe you guys did it in the limo!"_ She was laughing again.

"No…" I wondered what else got lost in translation, being in a crowded club with the music too loud, and too many cocktails. "We were…on a blanket, on the roof, and under the full moon." I felt like an idiot for sighing.

_"__Really?"_ Kylie was breathy. _"Oh my God, really-really?"_ She sounded wistful. _"That's like…wow. Super romantic!"_

I smiled again. "Listen—yeah, we did what we did." Clueless, I thought maybe Kylie could give me some advice. "She knows…I can't be tied down right now, but—"

_"__Oh, you care!"_ she giggled madly, her tone accusatory. _"I love you, my Sonny-bunny." _

"I love you, too." I sipped my drink. "We're just chillin' now." My head turned, looking out for Maggie again.

Kylie let out something that sounded like a squeal. _"Youse were so cute at the club…I mean, you were ALL over her, and she…my Maggie-Mags was happy. You, too—Mom even said, she said she couldn't remember the last time you smiled like that." _

"Right." I nodded, wishing we were back at the club. "Midnight Sun…being around everyone was a great…buffer." I hoped she caught my drift.

_"__Oh…um."_ Kylie was quiet for a beat too long, but I waited. _"If Maggie's quiet, too quiet and standoffish, she's nervous. And it's because she doesn't know how to act sometimes, thinks just being herself is a bad thing, like someone else I know."_ Kylie paused again. _"You just need to be reassuring. Don't give her a reason to…doubt herself or feel self-conscious. Yup…She's just like a baby deer. You gotta proceed with caution and take every precaution before she bolts!" _

"Huh…makes sense." I saw the beautiful doe in question a few feet from me.

Maggie stopped in her tracks, staring at me wide-eyed. "You're naked."

"No…" I said.

_"__Are you naked, Sonny?"_ Kylie giggled. _"I don't know where you are, but…presumptuous much?" _

"I'm in shorts—boxers," I spoke to them both. "I just wanted to get comfortable." Kylie might remember that I often walk around in my boxers, but Maggie wouldn't know that. I silently wished I'd kept my undershirt on.

And then they both giggled loudly, outta nowhere. Kylie cackling in my ear, and Maggie…Once I turned around to look at her, she almost lost her footing—still staring at me but bumping into the wall.

I didn't dare laugh, no matter how much I wanted to. "You okay?"

Maggie nodded.

I'd bet money she _was_ still nervous.

"You want a drink?" I asked her.

She shook her head, rubbing her stomach and staring at the floor. "I should eat something."

I nodded, sprinting to grab the food, the bag from the drug store. Then I pulled it up to the table. "We're in Manhattan, gonna spend the day here," I informed Kylie. "Anybody asks…You know what to do. I'mma have Maggie call her father—"

"No," they said in unison.

_"__Keep it simple,"_ Kylie reminded me.

"My dad thinks I'm at your parents' until after dinner. He knows I was to spend the night. My mother went away for a few days with my sister, and if...we're gonna be out late tonight, I can call, ask to sleep over Kylie's again. Shouldn't be a problem." Her eyes darted to mine and away just as quickly.

_"__Yup,"_ Kylie agreed. _"Only thing…to get permission to go to the club, Maggie promised she'd go to church for All Saints' Day." _

Judging by the look on Maggie's face, she remembered that as well. But then she waved a hand. "Doesn't matter. He's not as strict as my mom, and he won't call. I'll say I overslept and I'll do extra work this week at church."

I uncovered Maggie's plate. "Okay…eat," I told her. "I'll be back." I bent low to kiss Maggie's hair. "You eat—and take two of those Advil."

She agreed, grabbing for the bag while having a seat.

_"__You talkin' to Sonny?"_ That was Damion; I recognized his voice.

_"__Mind yo' neck, goober!"_ Kylie scoffed. _"And get out my room."_

_"__Amelia's snoring too loud…move over,"_ Dame said.

_"__For your information, Dame, it's Gio, and we're about to get to the good stuff."_ Kylie's the worst liar; her expressions give her away. _"What are you wearing, baby?"_

"A smile." I sipped my drink.

_"__Oh, you dirty boy!"_ It just got weird.

"Uh…" I didn't know what else to say, wanting a minute to talk to Kylie without Maggie in earshot—without Dame around on her end.

_"__Oh, Amelia got sick, too."_ Kylie thought I'd care about that.

_"__Lemme say what's up to Gio,"_ Dame said, 'cause he's another pain in the ass.

I didn't give a fuck. "Put him on the phone." I'll ask him what I'd planned to ask my uncle. It's one less phone call to make, and Dame can't deny me—not if he plans to be Dad's lackey. By proxy, he'll be working for me, too. And it'd be a cool test to see if he could put our being brothers aside, do the task at hand without having feelings about it.

_"__Are you sure?"_ Kylie asked.

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah." It was my turn to admire the view, gulping down my second scotch.

_"__Yo…"_ It was Dame, and he obviously knew it was me.

"Yo." My tone was lighter as I looked back to Maggie. She had her head down, quietly eating her food—well, she was picking it apart and eating.

I ached to join her, hating that lonely look on her face. If what she says is true, she must eat alone quite often—at school, with her parents being busy, and whatnot.

Kylie and Maggie's friendship has been amazing for the pair of them. That was another thing I dug about her, how good of a friend she is to my sister. And in light of that, I couldn't fuck this up, or else their friendship might be in jeopardy.

I really should have thought about that fact before…doing what we did.

All I knew was that I couldn't say goodbye just yet. I yearned to make up for the rooftop romp, treat her well, and cure some of my own loneliness in the process, but I didn't know about the rest of it.

_Shouldn't it be simpler than that? _

After only knowing her in this capacity for eight hours, shouldn't whichever outcome be irrelevant?

As juvenile as it sounds, I thought Maggie could be a good friend to me as well. Her being drop-dead gorgeous with a body made for sin is just an added bonus...and an added distraction.

_"__Sonny, you there?"_ Dame woke me up.

"What's up?" I cleared my throat.

_"__Is everything OK? Maggie's cool? Why you calling Kylie at five a.m.?"_ he rambled out.

"Maggie's home," I lied. "I dropped her off in one piece—" _sans cherry_ "—and she was fine."

Dame hummed. _"Maybe I should go over there, say what's up…"_ He was calling my bluff.

"Do it. Talk to her, and I'll break your fucking jaw." I tried to sound menacing, like I meant my words—being a dick just so he'd believe me.

_"__So…she's really home?"_ he asked.

I felt exasperated again, needed another drink, and my feelings only proved my point.

I needed a break from everyone and everything. "Yeah, she's home but I'm not. Some bullshit with Katie…you know how that goes, right?"

_"__I really don't."_ His tone was grim.

"Are we cool?" I asked. "I'm sensing this hostility from you. You're with Amelia. You barely know this one, Maggie. Why should you care that I was with her?"

_"'__Cause you used her…"_ Now he sounded…wounded? _"You don't think she was willing to do anything I asked when we chilled?" _

His words made me smirk, but nothing was funny. He pissed me off, insinuating some shit. "Watch your mouth. You know she's no ho, bro…tread carefully."

_"__No, she isn't some ho; you're right about that."_ His tone was one I didn't recognize. _"She's a little girl who—for whatever reason—doesn't get any attention from the boys at school. She's a curious kid, wanted to get laid because everybody and their mother is doing it…I guess youse both had that in common. I'm just saying…Don't go thinking you're special or anything. As a matter of fact, it was offered to me first…and we'd only been chillin' about an hour. She was all over me—" _

"Yeah…and _you_ denied her." My tone was sarcastic, knowing Dame would have fucked her given the chance. "Just stop."

He laughed. _"She was on my lap, fucking dry-humping me when Mom got me with the hose—"_

"But…you didn't kiss her?" I asked, Kylie's words coming back to me.

Dame let out a sinister chuckle and then a sigh. _"Maybe I didn't get the chance to kiss her…lips."_ He groaned an angry growl. _"What happened when we hung out…that's for me to know. But could I have fucked her? Yes, I could've…You're not special, Sonny." _

"Oh, I don't think I'm special. I _know_ I'm not special, but I was under the assumption that what we did _was_ special." I mused, wanting to be truthful, no matter if he was trying to hurt me, upset with me.

It's not a habit of mine to lie to Dame anyway. "But, like you said, I gave her what she wanted, possibly needed. So, tell me again how _I_ used _her_?" I'd use his words against him; see how he talks his way out of it. "You make me out to be this…pussy-hungry monster, Dame." It was funny. "I gave her what she wanted. How does that make me the bad guy?"

Damion's only problem is that he _wanted_ to fuck her. He tried his best to stay away because of that. Damion can be an open book sometimes. On occasion, he's transparent, but he has the ability to be a brilliant liar. Regardless, he never comes as he is. There's always some bullshit logic he's gotta hide behind—something that makes him the good guy in the end.

I get it, can understand.

We differ in that—good, bad, or ugly—I'd rather be truthful.

And I wished he'd be straight with me, had been straight with me. It's too late now. If, at the beginning of the night, he told me he was confused, wasn't feeling Amelia and hoped for something with Maggie, I would have backed off.

But he didn't say any of that.

Instead, he asked me to occupy her time, and then continued to be aloof, paying attention to his girl—essentially putting on a show for Maggie, laying it on thick, thus making her feel badly until shit shifted.

And here we are.

_"__She didn't deserve that, Sonny. You should have been the adult and said no. She's a kid. My problem…it has nothing to do with ME!"_ He got loud, sounding testy on the other end.

"You're lying but it's OK." I didn't wanna get into this shit. "I need you to do me a favor. You can hate me if you want, but do me this favor, and _then_ hate my guts." Damion could possibly be angry about the claim I'd made.

Sure, Maggie and I had sex, and if it was anybody else…I'd move on, let Dame creep in, get sloppy seconds if he wished. It's happened before, but not this time.

There was something absolutely alluring about being Maggie's first.

_Hell, if I knew virgins did it for me, I wouldn't have spent x-amount of years dating pigs—for the sake of fun. _

I cringed at my thoughts.

_For the thousandth time…what the fuck was wrong with me?_

_"__What?"_ he spat. _"You know, you're fucking disgusting. You fucked her someplace at that filthy club? While she was probably drunk no less."_

"We're back to this?" I shook my head. "You woulda hit it if you coulda, too," I said. "Stop lying…I don't know what's going on, Dame, but if you're unhappy with Amelia, end it before Mom starts planning your wedding."

He was silent on the other end.

"I thought so," I said but brought my voice down.

_"__Maggie wasn't supposed to be with you."_ The way he said that made it sound like she'd chosen the wrong brother.

I ignored that, but then I decided not to. "You have a girlfriend, Damion. You think Maggie's attractive? That's fine. I do, too. You're a man, and you're not blind. There's nothing wrong with noticing other women…"

I felt like we were transported back in time—Dame was sixteen and I was twenty. He crushed after Kylie's babysitter, and the babysitter blew me. Dame walking in while it was happening was inopportune. Actually, that was the first time we ever fought—argued, and we didn't talk to each other for weeks after.

It was stupid.

In all actuality, I was correct, but it meant very little to me. My being correct meant nothing when my brother, my best friend, hated me the way he did.

So, I tried my best to explain—reconcile with my brother. He was such a shit, stubborn as all hell. I had to apologize, which was garbage. It killed me to apologize, to admit guilt when I'd done nothing wrong, but it was better than the alternative.

Being his big brother, I felt I'd let him down, hated that my little dude was mad at me.

This conversation reminded me of all that. Simply because, back then—juniors in high school—he'd just started dating Julie. And Kylie's babysitter was older, almost thirty years old. I don't know what was going on in Damion's mind. Either way, back then and kinda like now, he would constantly try and flirt with any chick I brought around. Or, he'd have a problem with whichever babe occupied my time, and he was somehow always in the equation...and he hasn't been single for more than a minute since he was around sixteen.

It was awkward.

Eventually, and up until just a couple of years ago, I'd stopped bringing females around my family.

Now that we're both adults, I thought we were past this.

In the grand scheme, Damion is my brother, and broads are broads. I'd always relent because my relationship with Damion was always more important.

But, in this moment and because of how happy I've been tonight, I saw him as selfish.

Why can't I catch a break? And how is any of this his business?

He can huff, puff, and bust my balls as much as he'd like.

If he thinks I'm going to apologize, say goodbye to Maggie just to appease him…he's mistaken.

History would not be repeating itself here.

"If you wanna fuck around, don't waste Amelia's time. Most of all, don't waste _your own_ time." I nearly shouted, whipping around to make sure Maggie hadn't heard me. "Dame, I told you…after Julie, you shoulda played the field a while. Instead, you're wifed up again."

I blew out a breath. "And what am I supposed to do? Clear every date with you? Make sure you're not in love with any of my future…prospects? You were cunty after I bagged Bianca, and…youse had known each other two minutes, hardly two minutes. You met Amelia, and I kept my distance."

_"__You—" _

"Come on, Dame. Stop. You know _I'd never_," I said, voice stern. "What I'm saying is…you_ know_ I'd never, never ever make a play for one of your girls. I'd never hurt you like that, bro. But you're mad at me when you don't even know these chicks—"

_"__That surprises me."_ He was calm now.

I shook my head, wishing I could shake him. "You really think I'd do that to you?" That fucking hurt, felt like he'd kicked me in the sac. "Damion…" Shocked and speechless, I hoped he was just talking shit.

_"__No…"_ His tone was low. _"That surprises me since Amelia would be perfect for you." _

"No," I disagreed. "No matter who it is, no matter how they are, or what they look like—Dame, I'd never _steal_ from you. I can't believe you think so little of me." I tried to think back to a time, think _of_ a time when I'd betrayed him, and I came up empty.

Sure, I've lost my temper with him before, have smacked him around, but Dame gives as good as he gets. He's crafty. Maybe I've given him a black eye that'd last a few days, but the wounds he inflicts cut much deeper—last a lot longer.

And I always forgive him.

_"__She'd be perfect for you."_ Dame let out an amused grunt. _"You shoulda stole her right from under me that day—that one fucking day. That stupid day! It was an important one, and I made the wrong choice... My poor angel. She ran from the yard crying. Things would be simpler—" _

"What are you talking about?" I asked. "What day was this?" I tried thinking back.

_"__You and Amelia, it'd be a marriage made in heaven,"_ he continued. _"Especially because of her dad. She's ready to pop out as many kids as I want, settle down, drop outta school, be a housewife, which is something I can't afford, but I will be able to…"_ He sounded miserable and insane, and I wondered if he was still drunk. _"Everything I just said…that's what you need, that's what you want, Sonny. It's not what I need. I know you want a wife, babies—to settle down, right?"_

"I thought I wanted that with Katie. But I don't know what I want or need anymore." I was honest. "The baby's coming…and that's the only thing I know for sure, that my kid'll be born in a couple months, and I'll be a daddy."

Thinking we might be on to something—what was really wrong—I wanted to continue listening, thus needing to goad him for more answers. "I love you, Dame. We can talk it out, work it out…I'll be here at the Waldorf. I can't chill today or tonight, but tomorrow…I'm free. You should come and we'll have dinner. There's an indoor pool on this floor, and a gym where we could chill, and we'll get to the bottom of it... Like we used to, like we _always_ do."

_"__I'd rather not,"_ he said.

I sighed. "You know, you think you know about what_ I_ need. What is it that _you_ need, Dame?" I asked. "And before you continue, _I _don't want Amelia in any way, shape, or form. This isn't some ghetto version of wife swap." I smiled. "Besides, I'm single. I don't have anything to swap wit'chu."

_"__You have _something_…And I saw the way Amelia peeped you last night." _

My stomach dropped and I wouldn't acknowledge all of that. "Is it Dad you're afraid of? 'Cause you don't gotta be. Luke…? All of that can be settled. It's not like you've proposed as of yet. Baby bro, you want out, we'll get you out. I got your back. Then—"

_"__Hypothetically, would you swap? Maggie for Amelia?" _

I groaned, wondering why this kid can't just listen. "Maggie wasn't yours. Bianca wasn't yours, and _neither of them_ are mine."

_"__You don't care about Maggie—" _

"I never said _that_." I chuckled darkly. "Do you realize you're holding grudges against me because of women who were fair game? You had no claim to either one of them. That's not cool. It's ridiculous that you'd put all this guilt on me, Dame. I'm single again, obviously. I'm not allowed to be with a beautiful woman because you might have seen her first?" I asked, seriously.

"I gotta check wit'chu? Listen to what'cha sayin'," I pleaded. "I don't want problems with my brother…At the end of the day, you're with Amelia. You should only worry about Amelia, but most of all…worry about yourself—focus on Damion. Do what makes you happy and don't care what other people think." I wished someone had said that shit to me years ago. "If you're unhappy, want outta your relationship, fuckin' walk away while you _still_ can."

I pushed my hair back, hoping he'd listen—take my advice. "And don't concern yourself with where my dick's been or where it's goin'. That's my business. _Capisce_?"

_"__Would, um, you say goodbye to Maggie? C-can you?"_ His voice wavered, nervous.

"We're not kids anymore, Dame…And after only spending eight hours with her, sure. I guess I _could_ walk away to appease whatever you've got going in your brain. But why should I? Gimme a good reason." I waited.

_"__Because—"_ he started.

"You'd do that to me?" Cutting him off, I realized I didn't wanna hear a reason. "What if…" I laughed, "What if Maggie and I are meant to be? You'd keep her from me?"

_"__Meant to be…listen to you."_ He thought that was hilarious. _"You know you got skills to woo the most reluctant of women. All you did was…"_ he cackled some more. _"Jesus. It's kinda sad, Sonny. You pressured an already crazily horny virgin to fuck you—" _

"You think I'd force her? You know me better than that, and if you must know…I do plan on taking her to dinner. She's a sweetie. But if it's going to cause problems…" The big brother in me is used to making certain and random sacrifices for my siblings. "No. Fuck that and fuck you!" This time, I couldn't do it.

Damion guffawed, obviously pleased with having made me angry.

"Every word you've said—you're baiting me, trying to hurt me, piss me off."

_"__Please. We both know you don't care,"_ he said.

"You'd be surprised at how much I do care and what I care about." I puffed my cheeks, blowing out a large breath. "Listen to me for a second and listen good, bro."

When he didn't reply, I continued, needing to get this shit out. "I won't let her be some pawn in whatever sick scheme you got going—trading people." I shook my head. "You're with Amelia. You don't want her, fuckin' let her go—find someone you can be happy with, whatever."

I shrugged. "I plan to take Maggie to dinner, and I'd like to spend some more time with her, 'cause that's _what I want_... And a part of this getaway, being at the Waldorf is to focus on what Santino wants."

_"__The fucking ego on you. Now you're referring to yourself in the third person?"_ He wasn't laughing.

"Using my name was to emphasize…Doesn't matter. Anyway, can you level with me? Dame, I've been there for you through so many things. I've dropped women faster than…I don't know what. Just because you showed the slightest interest. Now, I'm asking you to drop this—forget about Maggie." I chuckled, and I couldn't believe what I was about to say. "Gimme some time, all right? I enjoy her company and I'd like to see what happens. If or when Maggie tells me to step off, if or when we part ways…"

I really didn't want to finish. "Then…whatever's clever. I don't own her, she can see whoever she wants." If they started dating, I might be compelled to move out of Brooklyn.

_"__You mean that?"_ he asked. _"That's very big of you."_

I ignored that. "I'mma say this one more time, though. If you're unhappy with Amelia, break up with her before youse go any farther, and then we'll work on getting you someone who's perfect for you…" I didn't think Maggie was a good match for him any-fucking-way! Dame needs someone who'll keep his ass in line, who won't hesitate to call him on his bullshit—someone who'd be just as stubborn, strong-willed, and smart, which might level him out. "What about the girls in the med program? They have the same goals—"

_"__Whoa! You said 'dinner'? Since when do you do dinners? Dates?"_ he asked, trying to deflect, change the subject like he always does. _"Fuck that. I don't wanna know. What do you want from me? That favor you needed."_ He sounded as aggravated as I was_. "And…I'm only agreeing because of the solids you've done for me. Otherwise…I think I could use a break from our bromance." _

I nodded, accepting that, saw it coming. The feeling was mutual, which saddened me, and it was inevitable, and that was just sad in and of itself.

I really just needed a short break from all of them—just a couple days. That's it.

"You know…if you're working for Dad, you're also working for me, which is another reason why you'll do me this favor." If he didn't wanna be my brother right now, I'd treat him like an associate.

_"__Oh, is that why you thought you could just son me like that at the club? In front of my girl, too?"_ he asked.

"You need to think before you open your mouth. Think before you act. You were outta line earlier—"

_"__Looking out for a friend? That was outta line? I can make a list of all the things Maggie deserves and/or possibly needs, and you're not one of them…She's…she's an angel, almost like an alien 'cause she never acts the way you expect."_ There was humor in his tone. _"You turning her into one of your broads—one of your NOT girlfriends—that'd be a sin. Of course, you BROKE into her…far be it for me to say anything. You're just fucked-up." _

I sighed. "And what if I wanted to date her? Make her my woman? Maybe that's why I don't wanna say goodbye, write her off with hopes she'll screw you." If that happened, shit would get crazy. "You don't know, so don't assume. I was nothing but a gentleman." Needing more scotch, I started for the wet bar again. "I need you to go to my apartment."

_"__And do what? I don't wanna see Katie. She'll inundate me with questions, and with how I feel right now…youse won't like my answers,"_ he laughed.

"No…" I didn't care what he'd say at this point, knowing he won't be foul to Katie. "You're gonna see her. Make sure she's all right…Look, we both know that stunt she pulled last night, acting all heartbroken, is an act."

_"__And what do you want me to say to her?"_ His voice was a dull monotone.

"Nothin'…I'll call her, stop by tomorrow…or something." I guzzled the scotch again, needing to shake my head.

Then I smiled, turning to Maggie.

She was still eating her sandwich, hella cute as her eyes continued to wander around the place. Then her gaze landed on me, and she beamed.

"Sorry." I mouthed, pointing to my phone.

Her face blazed crimson, dipping a finger into her ketchup.

I knitted my brows together, sure that should have been a French fry, not her hand.

"Crap." She looked mortified, grabbing for a napkin.

I tried not to chuckle as I approached her.

The food, and her ketchup finger, looked good, so I bent low to open my mouth. Her beaming smile warmed me while she fed me a couple fries.

_"__You there?"_ Dame asked.

I hummed, chewing my food. "Eating." Then I planted a silent, forceful yet chaste, kiss on Maggie's lips. "Sorry, Dame." I walked away again.

_"__OK. Confirm Katie's playing the victim card, and…?" _

I walked quickly into another room. "Tell her the truth. I sent you over because I need something from my office. Just tell her I'm at the club already. And you lock that door after yourself, so she ain't all nosy around my safe and shit."

Dame chuckled. _"I'm not allowed to talk to Maggie anymore, but I still have access to your safe?"_

I wasn't drunk enough to make the mental comparisons, but then I did. "You'd never rob me, but…would you _fuck_ my girl?"

_"__Now, she's your girl?"_ he laughed.

"What if she was?" I challenged, finding this amusing, and the thought wasn't daunting. He knows me better than anyone else on the planet, knows I'm fucking around, teasing him, but what if I wasn't?

He was quiet on the other end for far too long.

And this conversation was taking forever, too. "Listen, grab a duffle, any bag you can find in my office. On the bottom shelf, there are stacks of five grand—already counted, and I need you to bring me thirty large."

_"__For what?"_ he shouted. _"Whatta you need that much for?"_

"I'm at the Waldorf, Dame…I'll probably be here all week, and I need it for something. All I'm asking is that you bring the money to me before you go back to school. Vito will give you a ride back and forth, but you don't tell him what'cha doing. He'll be discreet. Trust me. And I don't want Mom and Dad knowing I'm here. It's irrelevant, you know? Not much of a getaway if Mom stops by with her ziti, asking me what's wrong."

_"__The fuckin' ziti,"_ Damion laughed. _"I get it." _

"Thank you," I said, taking my next to last sip, feeling good.

_"__You swear Maggie's not with you?" _

"She's home, bro," I felt bad lying again, and it had nothing to do with whether or not he'd bring me the money. There are safes in other places, other people I could have asked. It was the principle since I could count on one hand the times I've had to lie to my brother. And I hoped whatever problem he had concerning Maggie ebbed quickly, very soon.

Plus, if I'd asked Carlisle to do this, he'd probably tell Dad my location.

Dame—even if he's pissed at me—won't blow up my spot.

"Don't go to the front desk. Just come up to room 3003—thirtieth floor, the towers."

_"__You rented a suite?" _

"Yup," I said.

_"__Oh, how the other half lives…It must be nice having money." _

"It has its perks." I smiled. "Lemme go. I'll—"

_"__Not having to actually work for a damn thing!"_ Cunty-Dame was back. _"Does Maggie know she slept with New York's most eligible gangster? You fuckin' dirtbag—you—"_ He found that hysterical and laughed his ass off. _"Notorious King of the Underworld—stealing cherries and taking names."_

"I didn't steal that," I added. "It was _thrust_ upon me."

_"__I fucking hate you."_ He might have meant that shit. _"Again, did it ever occur to you that maybe you shoulda been the adult in the situation and said no? Had some self-control? No, pussy's pussy to you, and you had to go for it. You disgust me, Santino."_ He used my full name.

"Sorry to disappoint, Mom." I needed a cigarette, and I knew I had a few in my jacket pocket.

_"__Mom is right. I have half a mind to tell her—"_ He stopped short.

"Tell her," I laughed. "I'm twenty-seven years old, Dame. I also don't answer to you or her."

_"__Oh, no. You listen to Daddy. Dad's little puppet—"_

"No." I smiled wider, and he'd never know how wrong he was until he opened his eyes. "We bump heads quite often. Unlike others, I don't fear the man—"

_"__I'm not scared'a that motherfucker!"_ His voice rose a few octaves.

"I wasn't talking about you." I said that to make him feel better.

Besides being a manipulative brat, he's always been very compliant, a good and obedient child who always got perfect grades, never deviating from the beaten path.

All of which is why…my parents hold him with such high regard, why he could, _and literally has_, gotten away with murder.

He forgets that I was their first kid—paved the way for both Dame and Kylie—who were well-behaved.

The Skip and his missus weren't as strict with them; they'd learned to ease up.

He likes to think I'm their favorite, but…it's because of my lifestyle, of how many things he thinks my father has given me. God forbid, Damion believe I worked my ass off for every-single-thing I've acquired and dollar earned.

I was never the best student, and I was always getting into trouble. And maybe at twenty-seven, our parents don't care to fight with me anymore. Especially since the hardest feat to date has been to show my father that I'm a man, able to make my own choices.

We're friends and even better business associates because I've earned his respect.

Badly, I wanted to ask him—or bring it to his attention—about how my parents told him to back off Maggie.

Granted, she was seventeen at the time, illegal, and they thought she was much younger, but…

He didn't fight them, nothing, and he's hiding behind this holier than thou bullshit.

If his feelings for Maggie were genuine or true, he'd fight tooth and nail to be with her, and he wouldn't care what anyone thought.

"Plus, what happens behind closed doors…that's none of his business, nor can your rat-ass change what's already happened." Now he was really aggravating me. "Be here before one o'clock. Understand? This is a task I'm taxing you with—not really a favor. Be here by one. Then, by all means, feel free to ignore me for the next month. I'll extend you the same courtesy."

_"__Since when?"_ He chuckled nervously_. "Since when are you so quick to ignore me, Sonny? What have I done to you?"_

I massaged my forehead. "It's okay for you to be a dick to me—talk shit, but as soon as I talk back, I'm wrong?" I didn't understand. "What the fuck is up with you lately?"

It was quiet again but he eventually spoke. _"You—"_

"Fuck that." I really was sick and tired, especially of him. "I don't need your help…don't want you working for me neither. I bend over backward to help everyone in this fucking family, but the one time I reach out…motherfuckers gotta gimme grief. I'll call Dad and ask him—"

_"__I'll do it!"_ he shouted to cut me off. _"I'll bring you the money,"_ he whispered, his attitude having disappeared. _"You should do me a favor. When you're done with it, have maids clean the room, and then let Amelia and me use it." _

"If…that's something you want." I chuckled, the scotch having done its job, feeling the fuzz in my brain. "I gotta business dinner later. I'm cool on the suit, but I'd appreciate—"

_"__Undies and socks, your cologne?" _

"Thank you, Dame." Now I had to stroke his ego because…that's what the kid needs, and no good deed goes unpunished. "I'll have something for you, too, for your services." I just wanted to get off the phone already.

He sighed. _"I hate your guts right now, and when I work out my feelings…we'll talk about it."_

"Whenever you're ready. You know you can talk to me. I don't even know what the beef is. You gotta girl. I hooked up with Maggie… Just like Amelia is none of my business, what I do with Maggie should be the same…irrelevant to you." I blew out a breath. "All I asked was that you keep your distance. You forget that you were the one swinging at me—swung first."

_"__With good reason… Look, Kylie's grabbing for her phone. I'll text you before I head to you." _

"Thanks, Dame."

_"__Hello!"_ It was Kylie again, and she was upbeat.

"Don't tell Dame—don't tell _nobody_ that Maggie's wit' me." I'd told Dame my location, which I didn't feel the need to share with Kylie. Yet, Kylie knows her friend is here, and Damion doesn't.

Classic.

The plan they'd concocted last night—to make Damion jealous, make him react to Maggie chillin' with me—worked very well. He even got in my face about it, and he just gave me a hard time over the phone, sore about it a couple hours after the fact.

Still, that ballbuster's my brother. And, regardless of why he was upset over us hooking up, I saw no reason to rub his nose in it.

My brother has been pissing me off as of late with his outlandish behavior. He's been acting out of character for the past two months, but it's never my intention to hurt him.

After all, he's my best friend, my brother. Both of which are reasons why I'm always so baffled by his ability to screw me over without thinking.

That makes Damion, Damion, though. And I'm always forgiving my siblings for the dumb shit they do.

Honestly, I didn't think the plan to make him envious would work. I didn't think he'd care about Maggie and me doing what we did—getting closer.

But he was outta line back at the club, and I thought it best to forgive—not necessarily forget—so we could move on. I'd also put my hands on him, having lost my temper, which was just as bad as him disrespecting me, I guess.

We agreed on one thing, though.

My brother and I needed some space after today. Maybe he'd get his act together, and it'd help us to avoid any future problems.

My reluctance to tell Kylie we were at the Waldorf stemmed from her blabbermouth, like I told Dame. Mom would show up with Dad in tow, and the last thing I wanted was to be pressured—rushed to deal with Katie.

My temper, my sanity couldn't deal with that at the moment. Because she's hell-bent on being a troublemaker, crying to her father, making herself this victim. And, for the life of me, I couldn't figure it out…Why she suddenly gave a flying fuck?

Whether it's tomorrow or days from now, eventually, everyone would know my location and companion. I knew that for sure, but I wanted to enjoy the time I had, however brief it might be.

_"__I know…"_ Kylie sighed. _"I won't tell anyone. Just promise me this, Sonny… Hang on. Lemme close my door."_ I heard her do that and then put some music on. _"I'm sure he's back in bed with Amelia, but still…"_ She paused for a few seconds_. "I know you won't, could never hurt her. You're the best guy I know, but you're also my brother. I don't know you—how you are with women, but they obviously don't last very long around you." _

"Rib shot." I joked.

_"__I love her. She's quickly become my closest and bestest friend, and…I'll be an even better friend. I'll stick by her with a box of tissues when you eventually take her home…that whole thing."_

"I don't plan on making her cry, okay?" I whispered. "She's gotta leave 'cause she's got school. Otherwise, I'm enjoying my time with her… And, Kylie, it's only been a few hours." I laughed, couldn't help it. "I've made no promises—I've been nothing but truthful since we was at the restaurant earlier. Again, we're just hangin'. I'm enjoying my time with her."

_Well, I was.._.

I _had been_ having a good time with Maggie.

All of this suddenly became more trouble than it's probably worth. The secrets and the lies, Maggie being nervous, and acting scared all of a sudden.

I sighed, slightly shaking my head. "Honestly…with he way she's acting, I'll probably take her home soon."

I'd do what I came here to do, dote and pamper, focus on her comfort and her pleasure…_if_ she let me. Then, I'd send any and all outfits from the personal shopper to her house as a thank you.

But I'd be calling her a cab within the next couple hours to take her back to Bay Ridge—preferably before Dame showed up to avoid that whole mess.

We fucked, which was no big deal—sex is sex. She wanted it and no matter how special, how much fun I had with her on the roof, no matter how fast we ran from my reality, it all caught up to me, which took a giant shit on any and all plans I'd had.

I'd be better off by myself…maybe call some cooz if I got lonely.

I can drink myself to sleep, soak in the Jacuzzi, and bask in my solitude—revel in the fact that Katie's not around and neither was my family.

I longed for the feelings I had earlier, when shit wasn't complicated, when I was happy—optimism having clouded my judgment, when I wasn't thinking, just doing, doing what was instinctual, when my stomach was filled with excitement and not apprehension, when I couldn't wipe the smile off my face.

"Look—" I started again "—I only called so you'd call off the wolves. And I wanted you to gimme a heads up if some shit popped off."

_"__You know I got yo' back, bro,"_ she sighed.

There was another reason I called Kylie, and I couldn't get the words out before. That seemed ridiculous now. "She is nervous… Could you, uh, talk to her? Make sure she knows she's not my prisoner. That she can leave at any moment. But I plan to call her a car at around noon. Shit. All I wanted to do was spoil her—"

_"__Screw Maggie! Send a car here. You can spoil me!" _

"Kylie…"

_"__No, for real…"_ She was waiting for me to say something.

But I didn't say anything. I know my sister well enough; she'll soon fill the silence with her jabber.

_"__Ugh!"_ She scoffed. _"Maggie's got a handsome dude, a rich and sexy man wanting to spoil her, ready to do anything to please her, and she's being a brat?"_

"No. She's apprehensive and with…good reason." I pinched the bridge of my nose, knowing exactly what the problem was, and I couldn't blame Maggie. She'd trusted me on the roof because she'd, obviously, had a goal, her own intentions. But she never asked for this, for the rest of it.

_God, I've been acting like such a whimsical fool. _

But that shit felt oh-so good.

_What happened?_

The confusion, the fact that I missed our carefree exchanges from not too long ago, had me feeling down.

_What could have possibly happened between the time that we stood outside of Midnight Sun 'til we checked into the hotel? _

What I really needed to do was pull my balls outta my back pocket.

_Be a man and cut my loses? _

_"__But, I mean, jeez, Sonny. The poon was THAT good?"_ Kylie chortled.

I laughed through my nose. "_Every_thing was THAT good, including her company I'm desperate to keep." It rolled off my tongue before I could edit that shit in my mind.

Not embarrassed, I'd brought my voice down anyway. "I don't know what I'm doing, Ky… She's not like any other chick I've chilled with." And I felt I'd shared so much with Maggie already, hopefully, Kylie understood my meaning. "I have no experience. Not with this...kinda stuff. Help your big bro out, all right?"

She gasped. _"Are you falling in love? Kylie knows these things, so just be straight with me, and before you deny it…because you're such a macho, playa—"_ she snickered, sounding like our mother _"—you're placing Maggie's comfort, her feelings before your own, before your dick."_ She let out a squeal. _"That means something, Sonny. Also, Mom and I were talking; I told you before, remember? We've never seen you as happy as you were last night, not even on your best day with Katie. Maggie and Sonny sitting in a tree, f-u-c-k-i-n-g. First comes—" _

"Enough," I said. "And…" I didn't know what else to say. "Look, I'm sure she'd love to talk to you. Might be achin' to BS with you. I know women like to confer with their friends after some shit. Just let her know that _nothing's_ gonna happen that she doesn't _want_ to happen." The concept was comical, like I'd do anything to harm the pretty girl in the other room.

_"__You're being a real gentleman, when you never are…usually to put on some act,"_ she sighed again, wistful. _"All that just proves my earlier point." _

Ignoring that, I said, "You get her to ease up, to go with the flow, like she was doin'. And I'll owe you one, take you s-h-o-p-p-i-n-g. First comes Barneys, then comes Saks, then comes Kylie—"

_"__All over the place."_ She was breathless. _"I'd come all over the place. I'm talking multiple—" _

_"__Stai zitto!"_ I thought my sister was nasty. "You do this. And you do what'cha gotta do to keep Mom, Dad, and Maggie's pops none the wiser, and I'll… Sis, you'll be compensated. You said the other day—Gio's too proud to ask his pops for airfare. I'll talk to him. Gio won't say no to me; I'll fly his ass out here for Thanksgiving, or I'll pay your way to Texas."

She gasped. _"You'd really do that? Like, go to bat for me with Dad…if I wanted to go to Austin?"_

"Kylie…" I thought about how important this was to me, what lengths I'd go to. "With Mom and me in your corner, I think he'd be fine. Let you go."

_"__Yeah, and Mom told me she won't bang Dad if he pisses her off." _

I grimaced, wondering why she's always nonchalant talking about Mom and Dad getting busy. Weird. "I don't think that's true." Regardless, I answered her honestly, and I was curious about her next reaction. "They're married, and from what I heard from Dad, she doesn't deny him a thing—gets on his knees for forgiveness, if you know what I mean." I still couldn't_ just_ say it, indulging her to get on her good side.

_"__Holla! Go Mom! I bet she sits on his face—" _

"Kylie…" I smacked my forehead.

_"__I wanna sit on Gio's face, like sixty-nine?" _

"Shut up," I said.

_"__Ugh…It's been so long…too long. I'm going nuts, Sonny! Nuts for Gio-nuts, and everybody's having sex but me. Do you know how frustrating that is?"_

I nodded, though she couldn't see. "Airfare," I repeated. "If you do this… Shit, Kylie. You're not in school, Maggie's working at the salon now, and Mom's there to pick up the slack… You could be ridin' Peto's mug next weekend."

_"__Oh my God! That'd be—I have no words. You're the best brother!" _She was absolutely giddy.

"Right…but any fuck-ups, spots blown, and the deal's off. Understand?"

_"__So…you're not sending her home at noon?"_ Her tone was teasing.

"That depends, I guess." I shrugged, massaging the back of my neck. "I'm stalling—don't even know why I really called you."

_"__You just said why,"_ she giggled. _"You still drunk? No, I think Santino Anthony Cullen is nervous,"_ Kylie singsonged.

I said nothing.

_"__Just put her on the phone… Sonny, I'm sure I can get her to loosen up, but I won't encourage her to sleep with you. One was good enough and I bet her poon is sore—"_

"Kylie…" I wasn't going to elaborate, but…"I don't want you to do that either."

_"__Like you'd deny her?"_ She snorted. _"Please…Just be careful. Watch for your foot, so it don't end up in your mouth, and just be Sonny."_ There was a smile in her voice.

_"__I bet that's where you went wrong, trying to be some mac, pimp-daddy with all the moves, throwing money around…"_ She was correct. _"But that's not who you really are, nor were you like that at the club."_

My sister had been bombed and rarely around us; I had no idea how _she_ knew how _I_ was acting at the club.

_"__You were sweet and showed her the moon. Just be Sonny. Let go. Loosen up, and be my goofy big bro with the big, romantic heart." _

I raised a brow at nothing, wondering if she was bullshitting me, or it was some clever Facebook status she jacked, or heard it in a movie.

_With Kylie, you can't be too sure. _

Since when I need advice from my baby sister anyway?

I felt like the biggest pussy, and I'd already wasted valuable time on the phone.

_"__And, most of all, let yourself be happy. Because I promise you…if you leave the Don Juan act at the door and be yourself, she'll fall head over heels in love—"_

"That's not what I want," I rushed out. "Please, don't fill her head with—"

_"__Now, you're just lying…"_ she drawled.

"No," I argued. "I don't know what's up, what's down—"

_"__Just put her on the phone."_ She made some odd, annoyed sound. _"I get it." _

"Thanks, Kylie-Cat." I smiled, hoping for the best.

Maggie was almost finished with her food when I got back to her. "Kylie." I wiggled my phone to get her attention.

Her eyes lit up as she took it from me. "Hello?"

Then, I didn't feel too badly about leaving her alone while I'd made that call—we both needed regrouping or a reality check.

At this moment, I loathed "reality" and wished life wasn't as complex.

Maggie abandoned her plate and me to run into another room, and I'm pretty sure I heard a squeal.

It made me smile even wider while I grabbed my sandwich.

I ate my food while I stared at the Jacuzzi.

That'd definitely help us relax, or mainly, just help her. There were more than a dozen jets, various kinds of bubble bath. To date, I'd never met a female who didn't enjoy a bubble bath.

Despite my worries for Maggie, I think I was as relaxed as I could be.

The scotch helped along with being away from Katie, my family, and responsibility in general.

Just knowing that had me feeling at ease.

If only Maggie could meet me halfway…lest we squander the short time we have together.

I said a silent prayer, hoping Kylie could talk some sense into her friend.

After I set the water, I ran into the bathroom for a robe. It was white, fluffy, and fucking huge.

Catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I realized I did look naked, as my boxers left very little to the imagination. Thinking my state might be "intimidating," I donned the robe and wiped the breadcrumbs from my mouth, swallowing down my last bite of sandwich.

Then I pushed my wayward hair back, noticing how tired my eyes were.

I grabbed the extra robe for Maggie and shut the light.

Getting closer to the hot tub, I could hear Maggie's enthusiastic tone. She was talking a million words a minute in that excited-girl way, although I tried not to listen to their conversation.

Waiting for her, I dumped some bubbles into the tub and went to finish my food, munching on a few fries. And I couldn't believe how hungry I was, not until I had that first bite.

Then again, we never know how starved we are—for food, friendship, for someone to listen, someone to care for—until we get a taste.

I downed half a bottle of water before taking the champagne, bucket of ice, and flutes off the cart.

After settling it all near the tub, I lit a few candles, and then pushed the food cart out into the hall.

I was about take some Advil, but I thought I'd be okay. It was Maggie I was worried about, afraid her bits…and head might be achy without sleep and because of the earlier _intrusion_. I don't know.

From the sounds of it, she was still on the phone with Kylie, and they spoke about the suite.

No matter, incredibly unsure now, I kept my robe tied in place and waited for her near the Jacuzzi.

I wouldn't be pushy.

I wouldn't do anything but wait for her.

When the water reached the top, the bubbles nearly overflowing, I turned the water off. And then it was almost too quiet. The rushing waters had had a soothing effect, and the jets weren't on yet. But the silence… I hoped Maggie took that as a cue to end the call, as I was anxious as fuck in this moment.

I wanted…so much.

No matter how confusing, I still wanted…something, more time with her.

We needed more time, and talking to my siblings didn't really help matters much.

Back at the pharmacy, I had a better understanding of things than I did now, and that was just over an hour ago. Jesus.

It felt like another eternity.

This point in time was ever so crucial.

Every second and minute counted toward something.

I sighed, moving on to stand by the window.

Thirty floors above, those on the sidewalk looked tiny, like ants. And that was when I felt Maggie behind me. Without heels, I couldn't hear her steps, her frame small enough to sneak up on me, but I felt her and was apprehensive to turn—face her.

There was the likelihood she'd ask me to take her home.

A chance she'd wanna talk again.

Both of which were unappealing.

_Well, talking in the sense of getting to know each other better wasn't a bad idea. _

I hate to sound dramatic, but if I heard either of those…

I'd try to pry a window open, and SPLAT!

Right on the pavement.

I chuckled, thinking myself ridiculous.

Since when…did a situation like this seem awkward?

_What the fuck was wrong with me? _

"What's so funny?"

I breathed through my nose, composing myself. "Just…contemplating suicide."

Her eyes widened.

"Yeah…" I nodded "—but I was kidding. Have you decided what you wanna do?"

She'd lost my jacket and the sweats, walking around in her scandalous costume again—her wings lopsided in the back, making her look like a sad angel. "I'd like to stay…if that's okay?"

I let out an elongated breath, relieved. "More than okay." I extended my hand, hoping she'd take it.

Maggie's steps were tentative as she approached me, but then her big eyes got even bigger again, taking in the large Jacuzzi tub. "Wow. That's the biggest bathtub I've ever seen." Her hand reached mine.

I yanked her into my arms for a tight hug, my nose resting in her hair.

Shit was _less_ awkward the _more_ we touched, and I knew how I felt. Having her in my arms was comforting; she fit perfectly, though a little on the short side, but I had no problems slouching, bending low.

"Too tight," she giggled.

Easing up, I stared down to her. "I made it for you—the bath. The water's still nice and hot. I thought it'd help you relax." Her lips were inviting, enticing me, and I wanted to kiss her—badly, but I didn't. "Being out all night in this getup." I reached to right her wings, and it was no use.

They must be broken.

She grimaced, her hands resting on my chest. "Yeah, I do feel kinda gross."

"Me too," I admitted. "Not because of you or what we did—just a long night, in a humid club—" I stopped talking, remembering what my sister said about my feet meeting my mouth.

Maggie let out a nervous, breathy chuckle, backing away. "Well…we'll definitely fit." She stared at the water.

I moved to stand behind her. "I'mma grab a shower—" I kissed her temple "—in the_ other_ bathroom. This is for you, for you to enjoy."

She glanced back up to me with this bewildered expression. "Thank you, Santino."

I reached over the tub for the complimentary basket of toiletries. "You got soap, shampoo, conditioner…" And there were an array of other products that were pretty self-explanatory. "Everything you need and there's a toothbrush by the sink."

She licked her teeth, keeping her mouth closed. "Thank God." Maggie walked over to the sink first, and I followed, going toward the door.

"I'll see you in a bit," I said.

She was placing toothpaste on a toothbrush. "Can you get my zipper before you go? I can't reach."

My stomach was in knots again. "Of course." Needing to behave myself, all I did was toss her hair over her shoulder and bring the zipper down halfway, and I didn't dare look. "Perfect." I bent low to kiss her shoulder without even realizing what I was doing. Compulsory, instinctual, you name it—my lips felt as though they belonged on her skin.

Alluring and irresistible, she also had beautiful fucking skin.

Maggie didn't flinch or anything. She leaned into me, and our gazes met in the mirror. "You're gorgeous, baby," I said.

She grinned back to me. "Thank you."

Leaving the room, I left the door open a little bit. If she wanted it closed all the way, she could do it.

No, I wasn't hoping to get a peek.

_Who are you kidding?_

Anyway, I snatched up another little bottle of JWB—the last one—and then went toward the other bathroom.

While I set the shower, I guzzled the booze down, appreciating the buzz I had. Then I took a wicked piss before setting up my own toothbrush.

After shrugging out of the bathrobe, I started cleaning my teeth; meanwhile, I was crazy curious, wondering if Maggie had gotten into her bath yet.

Creeping, my toothbrush hanging from my mouth, I peeped Maggie entering the tub. She winced while dipping her toe, and eventually her foot, into the water; I guessed it was still hot.

Nevertheless, Maggie was exquisite, absolutely stunning. Her hair was swept to the side, hanging over her shoulder, and I was able to see her round hips, her full breasts, her skin flushed from the heat, and her eyes that never left the water. She must have adjusted to the temperature, or just decided to go for it.

A second later, her eyes were closed—and she wore a brilliantly large smile from ear to ear—as she sat back, submerging her entire body, that happy face the only part of her showing.

The fact that she never closed me out—closed the door, filled me with something, an odd feeling.

When my hand snaked into my boxers, I was able to apply that weird emotion to something else, desire.

That was when I rapidly entered the other bathroom, running on my tiptoes like a chick, not wanting to freak Maggie out with my stalker tendencies.

But I couldn't get the image of her out of my mind.

I spit out my toothpaste and entered the shower, my hand still holding my dick. That appendage was the first thing I washed, using the soap to make a nice lather.

Getting a good grip, I started to tug on my cock, the memory of her below me flooding my mind. My mouth tasted minty, but I could still recall the taste of her, the phantom scent of her pussy invading my nose.

Surprisingly, my cock was still a little sore, never having been in such a tight spot before. That didn't matter. All my thoughts, the pleasure, the pain, remembering the awestruck look in my Maggie's eyes as I entered her, the excitement in my gut along with all the new and confusing emotions—I grunted, coming into the spray of the shower.

Then, I couldn't wipe the smile off my face as I continued to clean the rest of my body. Beating the meat was probably a good idea. It'd help, make me less eager, make it easier to control my erection for… not the whole day, but a little while.

I'd tried to take my time, hoping Maggie would be finished before me. But I had no such luck, and I didn't spy on her again.

Instead, I entered the bedroom to turn on the television, lounge back—going for nonchalance yet impatient for her arrival. Flipping through the channels didn't help matters much. Zoning out in front of the TV has never been my thing, but I clicked, clicked, clicked, hoping to land on something Maggie might enjoy.

Seeing some old chick flick that came out while I was in high school, I settled back, looking at the time. It was still crazy early in the morning, and I knew a nap might be on the horizon.

"Santino…?" Maggie called.

I hopped up. "Yeah? I'm in here."

She appeared in the doorway, wearing the way-too-big robe, her feet bare. Her pure face with no traces of makeup made her even more beautiful, her wet, wavy hair fanning her shoulders. "Oh…" Maggie was hesitant.

"We could watch TV on the couch if you'd like?" I asked.

The side of her mouth pulled into a lopsided grin, her eyes focusing on her toes. "No…this is fine." She walked farther into the room to have a seat at the edge of the bed. "What are you watching?" She curled her legs under herself.

"I…I have no idea. It looked like something you might dig." I bit my lower lip nervously, a habit I'd picked up from my mother. Once I realized I was doing that, I released it, wanting to laugh at myself. "What, uh, kinda movies do you usually watch?" I mimicked her casual stance, crossing my legs in front of myself.

She turned her back on the TV, facing me. "Um…you're gonna laugh."

I grinned, expecting something crazy—like porn—to come flying out her mouth. "I promise to try not to." I grasped her hand, noticing—once again—how tiny it was and how perfectly it fit within my own.

Maggie put her head down. "I love romantic comedies, but I'm really…a sucker for Disney films?"

"Are you asking me?" My tone was incredulous.

She covered her red cheeks. "It's cheesy, corny, especially since those animations are so old."

I pushed her hair behind her ears, hating the way it hid her face.

Maggie rolled her eyes. "I sound as young as—"

"No," I quickly disagreed. "I remember those movies, too—can still see the appeal." I leaned closer, bringing my voice down, as if the Feds had this place bugged. "I remember crying like a baby…years ago while babysitting my little cousins." I felt my own cheeks warm at my admission. "We watched _The Lion King_, and…" I laughed at myself. "When Scar pushes Mufasa from the cliff." I shook my head. "Right in front of Simba, too. That was terrible, heartbreaking."

"I know." Her eyes widened. "What kinda crap is that to show to kids? I love the fairy tale quality, but Disney hates parents, always killing them off. It makes me wonder if it's solely for the sake of drama. But, then…they should really find a new gimmick."

I agreed, smiling at her. "Dame was the biggest Disney freak growing up." Suddenly, I chuckled at a random memory. "He was that candelabra with the French accent." Trying to recall his character's name was difficult. "The one who sang and danced with the clock and the teacups?"

"Lumière—the candlestick." She smiled. "I can't picture him…doing something like that."

"Dame was mad young." I shrugged, still not remembering the whole story. "He was good. Cute, too." As I stared at her, other thoughts ran through my mind, and I tried to avoid eye contact.

Maggie was within arm's reach, only wearing that robe, and I ached to push it from her shoulders.

Trying to behave myself, I scooted higher on the bed, not interested in the movie playing, solely focusing on the fabric that covered Maggie.

"What do you do for fun?" she asked, staring back at me.

I narrowed my eyes, albeit slightly, as I weighed certain pros and cons in my head. On one hand, I didn't wanna scare her. On the other, she was too fucking far away. I ached to hold her, have her near, in my arms.

Maggie was just a few feet away, but those feet might as well have been miles.

My sister told me to proceed with caution, take every precaution. _Something about baby deer bolting_. I don't know. "I'm sorry." I slumped my shoulders at a loss, clueless as to what my next move should be.

"Huh?" She sounded confused.

Should we talk more about _The Lion King_? Disney's latest flick? Do I pull her into my arms and kiss the fuck outta her? Then ask about _her_ hobbies? We already ate, bathed…surveyed Park Avenue from thirty stories above, talked to Kylie…and we fucked earlier.

"I'm sorry," I repeated, massaging the back of my neck.

Yeah, we fucked…already.

_Why was this so fucking awkward? _

_Why wasn't I being my usual self? _

_Why was I acting like such a coward? _

Bolting, right.

"Why?" She turned toward me.

I rolled my eyes at the ceiling, scoffing at myself.

Maggie stood from the bed. "Do you want me to go…?" Her thumb jerked to the doorway. "You're, um…" She was contemplative, still gawking at me. No, she wasn't checking me out; she was trying to _figure_ me out. "Have I done something wrong?"

"No." I rasped, dropping my gaze, thinking maybe she should leave. That was the conclusion I'd come to before. She doesn't belong here. She doesn't belong with me—my old, perverted ass.

Maggie _should be_ with some gangly, pimply-faced teenager with sweaty palms, scared to hold her hand but would bring her flowers, take her to the movies, the school dance, hope to get to second base, someone who's more on her level, someone without the baggage of an airport terminal, someone without a Katie, without a baby on the way.

Realizing that Maggie deserved better, I saw Damion's point.

Hell, she'd probably be better off with him. He's adorkable in his own way, and he's probably on the same emotional level as the gorgeous eighteen-year-old with the inquisitive eyes in front of me.

"You're acting different," she whispered, her words rushed. "Like Damion did." Her breath left her in a quick swoosh, the wind knocked outta her; I knew that expression. "Hot and cold." Maggie wet her lips, averting her eyes. "This probably wasn't such a good idea."

"No!" I was vehement, shaking my head and patting the spot next to me. "Come here… Please, Maggie, come here."

Maggie pulled the large fluffy sleeves of her robe down, hugging her middle.

I crawled to the side of the bed, impetuous, my stomach doing another one of its famous backflips. "I'm nervous. Afraid I might…do or say the wrong thing. Suddenly…I'm shy?" My hand rested on her bicep, uncertain, having no knowledge as to how I should continue. I'd never uttered any of those words to a female before. Actually, I'd never admitted to being skittish, or fearful to _anyone_; meanwhile, I _felt_ like a pussy in this moment.

Ironic.

I've killed, have stolen…more than I could possibly name. I bust kneecaps, crack skulls, have broken people's bones if they had an outstanding loan, owed me money.

Knowing the _exact_ number of broads I'd bagged, if I could remember, would probably make me sick. But I've had plenty of women. I've never been gun-shy, so what was it about Maggie that made me jittery, tense, and timid?

_How did she differ from the others? _

Maggie had her head slightly bowed, looking at me through her long lashes, her cheeks pink. "Me too. You look at me, and, well, you already call me 'Shaky,' but I can't control these butterflies." She touched her stomach. "And I don't know if it's excitement or…apprehension?"

"Your…" I wanted to tell her that her honesty was refreshing. "Probably a little of both," I sighed, my brows quirking, convinced—knowing we were fucked if we didn't loosen up. "Remember on the roof?" I grasped both her hands, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed before pulling her to stand between my thighs.

She was smiling yet hesitant.

Inhaling a calming breath, I continued, "When you were kissing me—" I reached to hold her waist, stopping my fingers from kneading into the soft flesh "—you'd said something, something that was very wise. You _told_ me, and you led by example…Something about us going with our instincts, not to think, just do. Like, what felt right in the moment?"

Her baby blues flashed with something—be it excitement or a twinkle.

I found myself smiling up at her, wondering what she saw mirrored in my gaze. I'd bet money I had _dirty_ in them, an indication of my salacious intentions—a naughty gleam that conveyed my desire, my yen for her delicious body, my . . . longing.

"What about that?" she whispered, looking away from me again.

Needing to see her face, I turned her chin back. "My instincts keep telling me to kiss you, to touch you, to hold you." A weight had been lifted from my shoulders with my admission. "You had your intentions, and we did what we did…"

I didn't know how to broach the subject of her using me to lose her virginity. It might make me a shit; however, I didn't care how we got here—this far—how or why we'd fucked. I just knew I wanted to do it again.

The purpose of her chillin' with me…might have been fulfilled?

"I'm walking on eggshells here," I laughed, and this time I couldn't look at her, feeling embarrassed. "I don't wanna do anything to scare you off or come on too strong. We were fine until…until we got here." It seemed like as soon as I'd opened my mouth on the elevator, shit changed, and the bubble we'd been hiding in had burst.

"I wouldn't be here if…I didn't want to be," Maggie said, placing her palm on my cheek, and her touch surprised me. She had this sly, little smirk on her face as her fingers trailed up and into my hair. "It's so soft."

Maggie went to take her hand back, but I stopped her. "Touch me!" I blurted, feeling real stupid. "You can…touch me, my hair." My attempt at nonchalance went unnoticed.

Especially when Maggie giggled, laughing at me.

"If you were me, chillin' with you…you'd understand." I didn't know how else to explain it. "Don't be shy, Maggie." I held both of her hands, placing one on my head. "Talk to me, touch my hair…it's cool."

"This is unreal…_I'm_ making _you_ nervous." Maggie shook her head. "I'm me and you're…_you_. Santino," she sighed, cutting herself off. But then, she surprised me yet again, wrapping her arms around my shoulders—hugging me tightly. Her hands didn't roam, her lips weren't anywhere near mine. It was just a sweet and comforting gesture, and I smiled wide as I embraced her back.

Our eyes met when she pulled away. I didn't let her get too far, leaning in to kiss her. Maggie had the same idea, shocking me once more since she'd fucking lunged at me.

I'd planned to be gentle and soft, and she was anything but. Our teeth knocked together as she knocked me over, my back hitting the mattress. Regardless, my hands found her ass fast, and I took her with me.

Maggie moaned into my mouth, writhing against me…

With butterflies in my stomach, my dick instantly awakened, I refused to think too much about it. There was no way in hell I'd wanna stop, so I wasn't going to—unless Maggie stepped on the brakes.

She was overzealous, kissing me with such passion, our tongues tangling in the sloppiest of lip-locks. And I was overwhelmed, trying my hardest to hold back, which went against my previous thoughts.

A grunt escaped me when I flipped us over, my hips easing between her thighs. The vigor of our kiss had slowed, these small whimpers of satisfaction coming from Maggie.

Each sound, each movement—every time she touched me—drove me all the more crazier. My cock was insanely hard; I was turned on to high heaven, a tightness in my chest, feeling as though I might explode.

Without any hesitation, my hands roamed up and down her sides while my lips explored her neck. My teeth scraped against her collarbone as I let out a hiss, and our eyes finally met.

Words failed me in the moment. All I could do was stare at her flushed and yet gorgeous face, those big peepers filled with lust. Her chest heaved against mine, and she had nothing to say either. Maggie was holding on to my biceps so tight her knuckles were white, and I wondered if she was having problems with restraint as well.

Slower and softer, my lips met hers, wanting to pick up where we'd left off. We quickly got carried away, and I kept sneaking my hand under the cloth to hold her shoulder—an attempt to rid her of the fabric, as my mouth traveled south.

From my pulling, from us rolling around, or because God answered my silent prayer, Maggie's robe fell to her sides. And I only noticed because mine had been open, and I felt the warmth of her flesh flush to mine.

She'd made no move to cover herself while we'd continued making out. But then her eyes swam with trepidation when I'd leaned back to look at her.

"You're beautiful." I gulped, my mouth suddenly dry.

Maggie was completely exposed—in the light of day—and her body was just as exquisite, if not more so than I remembered.

"Gorgeous…" I hovered over her, my eyes scanning and looking down between us, taking in every detail. "Jesus, baby." My smile must have reached my ears as I stared back to her face.

Maggie was out of breath when she popped up to lean on her elbows. She was about to say something, her mouth opening and closing, before she just collapsed back down.

Finding that amusing, I followed her, didn't let her get away. "What?" I asked, placing a few soft kisses on her hot cheek. "Talk to me."

She licked her lips, facing me once again. "I don't know…I don't care if you think I'm crazy."

"I don't." I shook my head. "Why—"

"No one's ever seen me naked before." She rushed out. "I was nervous last night. I'm kinda nervous now, but I like it when you look at me. I want you to look at me." She swallowed, reaching to ghost her hands along my shoulders.

"I dig your honesty." I'm sure there were plenty of suave-like things I could have said, many of which were also on the tip of my tongue. But Maggie's truthfulness was an attribute I absolutely adored.

"You don't think I'm crazy for saying that?" Now her eyes were wide, and she was grinning.

"No," I said, refusing to look anywhere but her face. "I…like that you want me to look because…I could stare at you for hours. How about that?" I raised a brow, and I finally bit her hot cheek, which made her giggle. "I've been wanting to do that for hours, too."

"Bite me?" she laughed.

"All over," I admitted. "Mostly these cheeks—" I did it again "—because of that blush."

Maggie hummed, her expression a very happy one, and that made me even happier. That moment was short-lived as she suddenly looked grim.

Before I could even ask what was wrong, she covered herself and sat up.

I backed off, gave her some space. "What's up?" This time, my stomach was jittery in a bad way, fearing the worst.

"What you said…about digging my honesty?" She pushed her hair behind her ears, her cheeks paler than what I've become accustomed to.

"I do…" I nodded. "In my experience…just life in general, most women aren't very honest, and then I deal with some shady individuals on a regular basis… It's refreshing."

"Yeah…" Maggie blew out a breath.

Studying her face, her features marred with—what I thought was—guilt, something became very clear to me. "What'd you lie about?" I was actually smiling, thinking Maggie adorable, finding it comical that my admission would make her feel guilty—feel the need to fess up.

"I didn't use you, Santino," she whispered. "Kylie told me…that I was acting like—" she rolled her eyes, that infamous blush going all the way down to her neck "—like some cock-hungry slut going from your brother to you."

"Whoa!" I threw my head back to laugh, thinking that hilarious. "Cock-hungry, huh?"

Maggie ignored my words. "You read my letter…the letter I wrote to your brother after hanging out with him. That night was so crazy. It was insane and I was drunk, which is no excuse. But I'd never had more than one beer before that night." She ducked, staring down to her lap. "Your brother is far from unfortunate-looking." She chuckled, nervous. "He was saying a lot of things, treating me…in a way I'd never been treated before. It was a feeling I liked, which made me think I liked him…but I didn't even know him. He was trying to talk me into going someplace with him, and I was stalling while also feeling like I was on a tightrope—about to fall whichever way, either run home or agree with him." She shrugged her shoulders. "It was confusing, and I thank God your mom came out when she did."

I nodded, unsure what my response should be, but I wasn't upset—not in the slightest. The truth was I'd read her letter. And after spending some time with her, I found myself hoping I could make her feel the same way my brother did. That I could somehow snag her attention, her affection.

"Then…as time moved on, I don't know. It wasn't because I liked him so much that I was sneaking into your parents' backyard," she laughed. "It was more of a curiosity?" Maggie looked back to me. "My first ever experience with a guy…and I thought he liked me; he said he liked me, and then he was treating me like I had the plague. I wanted to know why. Then hanging with Kylie, finding out your brother had a girlfriend. Your sister taught me a lot. I'd taken the situation too seriously. And the plan to make Damion jealous wasn't even mine. But I'm happy her mind works the way it does." She smiled at me.

I laughed through my nose, agreeing.

"Santino…" Maggie was holding back again.

"Just tell me," I said, taking her hand in mine, but that wasn't good enough. "Tell me the truth. Tell me anything and everything. I wanna know." I scooted higher on the bed, taking her with me—kinda making her snuggle with me.

"Last night, I didn't even have to think about being with you. I wasn't on the fence, on a tightrope. It was something I wanted. I wanted and needed you. I didn't use you—"

I cut her off with my lips, hovering quickly once more. And I didn't pussyfoot, nor waste any time disrobing her, needing to feel her body against mine.

My mouth toured her delicious chest, stopping to suckle her nipple, palming the other breast.

Maggie moaned and groaned, fisting my hair and moving her hips—seeking the friction that I was eager to give her by pushing my hard cock against her warm pussy, my boxers the only barrier between us.

Her clarification…Maggie admitting that she'd lied about using me, it excited me, filled me with a relief that I didn't even know was needed. Meanwhile, I was sure I'd be fine if I'd continued believing the former. I didn't care that she'd used me for whatever reason. I just didn't; it was irrelevant, but learning that she hadn't?

My emotions—those waning yet frivolous ones I'd had earlier this evening, the ones I didn't think myself capable of—floated back to the surface.

Light seeping into the dark once again…a feeling so amazing, it was definitely worth holding on to, or trying like hell to hold on to.

Before my lips continued their descent, I stopped to look up at her, needing something else. "Tell me…" I leaned my forehead to hers, our noses touching as I sucked in her breaths that'd hit my face—just wanting everything. "Tell me I'm special then…since I got to do that."

Maggie's lips were soft against mine while she palmed my cheeks. "You _are _special, Santino." She searched my eyes, a saddened gleam to her own. "I told you last night. Everything was special, including and especially you."

"Thank you for trusting me." I held her hand to my cheek to kiss her wrist.

"I _am_…trusting you." She smiled.

And I knew there were probably a hundred different meanings to her statement.

"We're friends…and I take my friendships seriously." I nuzzled my nose to hers.

"Oh," she giggled. "You do this with all your friends?"

I grimaced. "Hell no…I don't have female friends. You'd be my first one."

"Why not?" she asked, fidgeting below me while also wiggling her hips against my obvious erection.

Sighing, I moved to lie at her side. "I'd like to lie by omission right now, but I won't." My fingers made a trail from her chest down to her stomach. "I've never really tried…to be friends with a chick before. I've dated casually, had a few working relationships that were never serious…"

Maggie gasped, turning on her side to face me. "You sleep with all of them." Her face was alight, like she'd solved a mystery. "Every woman you meet, interact with."

I wasn't going to deny it, but I did feel a little sheepish about her being right on the mark. Then I remembered she was Kylie's best friend. While I waited for Maggie to judge me, I wondered why she seemed happy?

"I don't know if I could just be your friend." Her tone was suggestive. "I get it… I'd, you know, want you, too." She touched my chest. "That's so hot. I bet you've had some real raunchy, nasty sex before." Her fingers trailed down to my abs. "Like, the stuff you'd read in fanfiction. Threesomes and blow jobs, and—" Her eyes flashed to mine before she took her hand back.

I shook my head. "What?" I laughed my ass off. "What's fanfiction?"

"Just…" Maggie was embarrassed now. "Just stories. Erotica…literary porn including some of my favorite characters." She giggled behind her hand. "_You're_ like a character in a story. The reluctant playboy sweeping the innocent virgin off her feet." Now she thought that was hilarious. "Oh my God!" She laughed so hard, she'd rolled away from me.

"Where you goin'?" I yanked her back into my arms. "Stay here." I held her tightly.

Maggie moved to get comfortable in my arms, wrapping hers around my torso. "You're extremely attractive…and I find your experience even sexier."

I kissed her hair, unsure how I should respond to that. Maggie seemed to have that part of my life pegged, having figured it out within hours—or having learned from my sister—but most women would probably think my past, my track record, disgusting.

"Teach me," she whispered.


	3. Chapter 3

**Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**Beta'd by HollettLA.**

* * *

**Chapter Three**

"Teach me," she whispered.

I leaned away to look at her. "Teach you?" My heart started hammering away.

"Yeah." Maggie left my embrace to push me back. "Teach me how to please you." She kissed my chin, my neck, mumbling, "teach me everything" against my chest.

I blew out a breath. "You know a lot more than you think." My back arched from the bed when she palmed my cock, lightly rubbing it over the flimsy fabric. "Easy." I took her hand with my own. She hadn't hurt me by any means. In fact, her touch was almost too delicate, but it packed a punch all the same—making my body jolt with too much of a sensation.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be." I pulled the robe away from her shoulders again, nudging her back down. "The first thing you gotta learn…is how to enjoy yourself." Hungrily, I fucking stared at her—her body, wondering where I'd start first. "You gotta know what you like, what you dislike…for reference's sake." I licked my lips, ever contemplative.

"Show me what to do." She reached for my boxers.

I smacked that paw away. "Just lie back. Right now, baby…" I laughed, rubbing my hands along the outside of her thighs.

It's always take, take, take…all about the release, filling urges, and chasing an orgasm. I'm by no means a lazy lay, but all I wanted to do was please her—knowing I'd find pleasure in it.

"You tell me when to stop, when you don't like something." My lips lingered on hers, and then I continued to place tiny nips along her neck. "And if you like something, I want you to scream." I palmed her breasts, my touch not as gentle as before. "Okay?" I pinched her nipples, making her body quake.

Shaky…

That shit made me groan through a smile.

My mouth remained on her body, traveling up and down, placing kisses everywhere while I'd lick and bite her, too. I'd even turned Maggie onto her stomach, needing to brush my lips along her spine. No matter how much I'd wanted to, I didn't get too freaky—held myself back from tonguing her asshole.

I was going for sweet, not nasty…maybe one day we'd get to that, but not today.

And Maggie was thrilled with everything I was doing, making all these noises that went straight to my cock. There was no doubt in my mind that she was turned on, crazily so. Especially since I'd touched and teased every part of her except for one.

She was very impatient, too.

As I kissed along her thigh, Maggie pulled my hair, thus tugging me toward her center. Her sudden burst of aggression—no matter how slight it was—excited me even more; made me groan as I muffled my face into her drenched pussy.

That's when she screamed, shouting out, "Oh, Jesus!" as her legs widened.

Filled with glee, it was easy to forget how badly my cock hurt, digging into the mattress.

When I picked up a rhythm with my tongue, twirling it around her clit, Maggie gasped and almost jumped out of her own skin—pushing me away. "Christ…" She held her chest, staring at me.

I licked my lips, pulling her back down by her ankles. "Just breathe." That stunt was disappointing since she'd been very close to coming. "Just take it… Was I hurting you?"

"No." She gulped. "It felt…felt too good. I couldn't—"

I kissed her deep, my finger sliding along her slit, going deeper with each stroke. She relaxed back pretty fast, was panting and moaning a moment later. "How's that?"

She gave me a short nod, resting her forehead in the crook of my neck. "I want you…um, for us to—"

I shut her up with my lips once more.

Inserting a finger inside her, I was reminded of just how tight she was, which made me groan—bite along her shoulder and arm as my touch became more aggressive, finger-fucking her snug, soaked cunt while wishing it was my dick.

My thumb made circles on her clit, too, loving the sloshy sounds coming from between her legs.

Though I was animated as well, a growl vibrating my chest, overcome with such a need…I disappeared, getting onto my stomach and pushing her thighs apart, wanting to taste her again. I sucked her slowly, tongued her hole—fucking lapped at her.

"Oh my God!" Maggie held me there, her hips moving with me.

Placing my finger inside her again, I felt a little flutter, knew she was close, and so I didn't relent. It didn't take much longer for her to scream, stiffen and quake, and explode.

Her thighs were still shaking when I gathered her into my arms. "You good?" I cleared my throat, placing a kiss on her temple.

Maggie sighed. "Wow…that was awesome."

I grinned, agreeing, my fingers trailing along her stomach.

"The bag with the condoms—" she yawned "—sorry."

"Don't worry about it," I whispered, resting my cheek to her hair.

"I could do something?" she asked, and I felt her eyes on me.

"Just close your eyes. Get some rest." Mentally, I did the math, trying to figure out how many hours we had before Maggie had to leave. "You're gonna call your pops…Tell him you're staying with Kylie again tonight. I'll drop you off early in the morning…before school." I wanted another night with her.

"Since it's across the street, my dad doesn't really care…" She trailed off, sounding sleepy.

I hummed, pulling the blanket over her.

"I'm up," she said.

"I'm tired, too." It wasn't a lie, although my cock had yet to die. "Let's get some rest."

I was surprised by how fast I fell asleep.

It'd happened so abruptly that I was startled awake by a banging at the door. I didn't remember a roundabout time, but it felt like I'd only been asleep for twenty minutes.

Looking at the clock, seeing that it was one p.m. on the dot, I knew Dame was here.

Maggie was still out cold.

When the incessant knocking continued, I grabbed my robe and ran out. Always wary, I'd grasped my nine before approaching the door. Seeing my brother through the peephole, I granted him…and Amelia entrance.

Dame eyed me from head to toe. "You look like shit but like you also had a good time."

I just smiled at him, taking the duffle from his grasp.

"Wow! This is some suite, Santino." Amelia walked farther in.

Damion kicked at my discarded suit on the foyer floor.

Before he could say anything, before another sarcastic comment came out of his mouth, I put a finger up. "I'll be right back." Steadily, I walked back into the bedroom, making sure to only open the door enough for my body to slide through.

Like I knew she would be, Maggie was now awake, sitting up in bed.

"Hey," I whispered, placing the bag down.

"Who's here?" she mouthed, her expression nervous.

I climbed onto the bed to kiss those lips. "Dame and Amelia. He was dropping something off to me. They won't stay long."

"Oh." She nodded.

I squeezed the outside of her thighs. "You stay in here—just like this." I shook my finger. "Don't move."

She giggled, throwing herself back to hide under the blanket.

Curious, I didn't leave right away but dug through the bag. I didn't need to count the money that was on the bottom; I just wanted to see what else Dame had packed for me.

Shockingly, there were a few pairs of boxers, some socks, my cologne, and my razor. All of which proved that we could be total cunts, have beef, but still come through for each other.

"What's that?" Maggie whispered.

Instead of answering, I showed her a handful of my underwear.

"Oh," she said without sound, ducking under the covers once more.

"Be right back." I tied my robe in place and walked out to the living room area.

Dame had since helped himself to a drink while Amelia admired the view.

"Uh…" I really didn't wanna be rude and kick them out after he'd done me such a solid. "Thank you."

"I didn't really have a choice, did I?" he asked, sipping his vodka and wincing.

Wanting to keep the peace, be as amicable as possible, I didn't answer that.

"So…what is this?" He widened his arms. "Don't'chu usually chill—take bitches to that dive downtown? A suite at the Waldorf…" He laughed. "It's too high maintenance, even for you."

I sat on the arm of the sofa. "I'm trying to put some distance between me and Katie—catch a break. I figured, why not treat myself?"

Damion hummed, sipping his drink once more. "Who's in the bedroom?"

My eyes widened and I found this comical. "Yo…What's with the interrogation? The Feds didn't ask as many questions the last time I was hauled in." I chuckled.

"Hey, can I use the bathroom?" Amelia piped up. "The toilets at the dorms can be gross."

I waved a hand, jerking my chin toward the back.

Damion remained silent until Amelia closed the door after herself. "That fucking-fuck of a brat!" He pointed, pissed at something, and yet his tone wasn't very loud.

"Dame, if you're unhappy—"

"I am happy." He was indignant. "I'm in love and all that glorious sappy bullshit." At least he had been; I know he was, and I wondered what'd changed. "Who's here?"

I rolled my eyes. "No one—the TV's on in the bedroom. I was just sleeping."

He nodded, quite the skeptic.

And Damion could be as inquisitive as he wanted to be, but I wasn't going to rub his face in…whatever, Maggie being here, his jealousy, or whichever beef he has with me.

Luckily, Amelia didn't linger in the bathroom, and I hoped they'd be leaving soon.

"Maggie's here?" she asked me. "Where is she?" Amelia looked around, turning in a circle.

I shook my head, pushing my hair back. "Nope."

Amelia snickered. "That poor girl…A powerhouse like you, bet you fucked her into a coma." She punched my bicep.

"Uh, no…" I denied it once more.

"I'm just teasing." Amelia sucked her teeth. "You guys were cute last night…and her costume's on the bathroom floor, that's all." She winked at me. "Maggie's a nice girl…" Amelia looked to her boyfriend. "Right, Dame?" Her eyes narrowed, making me think she knew more about Dame's problems than I did.

My brother finished off his vodka. "Let's go." He made his way to the door.

"What'd I say now?" Amelia asked the room. "Geesh." She followed him out into the hall.

And I trailed after them to lock up.

Dame hit the button for the elevator, and then he stormed back over to me. "I don't know what your game is—"

"Game?" I asked, keeping my voice hushed. "She's not here, Dame. You're welcome to look into each and every room." I called his bluff.

"You're lying." He stood taller, steeling his gaze, which made me proud. "You're also disgusting—" Damion stopped, staring behind me.

I turned to see Maggie tiptoeing to grab a bottle of water, and my shoulders drooped. Maybe she thought we were actually in the hallway, that she'd go unseen, I didn't know. But she continued back for the bedroom as quiet as a mouse.

"Hey, Maggie!" Damion hollered.

She stiffened, looking like that doe in headlights Kylie had described earlier. Then she turned to wave, not saying a word.

Looking back to Dame, Amelia had sidled up to him, obviously amused—and they were both pissing me off, being fucking nosy.

"How was the rest of your night?" Amelia asked her.

Maggie beamed before recovering, her lips drawing a tight line. "Oh, you know…"

"I can imagine," Amelia giggled, pushing my shoulder.

"Knock it off." Dame nudged her.

"Be easy," I said.

"Fuck you, Sonny." My brother's expression was one of extreme hatred. He also wanted to say more but couldn't because of present company.

On any other occasion, I wouldn't have lied, withheld a damn thing, and I probably would have lost my temper—would've taken a swing at him for busting my balls.

But I wasn't angry, not at all.

I was actually saddened—upset that he couldn't see any logic. Damion thinking I'd honest-to-God stolen from him was very fucking disheartening.

And why can't I be happy? Why must I always sacrifice my happiness if Dame's dismayed by whatever's joyful in my life?

He was being a selfish and hurtful shit right now.

"Relax." Amelia rubbed his chest.

"Youse should leave," I said before I said anything else. "Thanks again for coming through."

Dame stopped me from closing the door. "I just wanna say one thing."

"You've said enough." I chuckled darkly; he was trying my patience. "It's time to step-off, ease up—"

"Wait!" Maggie rushed into the foyer. "No one can know I'm here." She looked to them and back to me, her eyes pleading.

"No worries, doll." Dame smiled at her. "My lips are sealed." He glanced down to Amelia who silently locked her mouth and threw away the key.

"Thanks." Maggie waved, leaving the doorway.

"Oh, Sister Margaret…?" Damion sang, humor in his tone now.

Maggie whipped around. By the look on her face, the fire in her eyes, she didn't appreciate the nickname.

"Watch it," I warned through a whisper; I wouldn't have him upset her as well.

"Just remember that the devil was handsome, too." Damion eyed me, appraisingly. "Understand?" His attention went back to Maggie again.

Maggie giggled. "You'd be surprised by how well I understand that now. And it has nothing to do with _Santino_." Her tone suggested something—something that made my brother frown.

Dame and his girl left without another word, for which I was grateful. The whole visit slash confrontation grated on my nerves—his inability to see reason aggravated me, had me thinking he was selfish, an asshole.

And if his qualms truly stem from our age difference, Dame thinking I'm taking advantage of her in some way…

No, he'd been the one to tell me I wasn't special, about Maggie giving her virginity away. Now, I know that's not true, although it does make things a little more confusing.

"I don't understand." Maggie took a seat on the couch.

"I thought I said don't move?" I quirked a brow, playful, hoping to move on from what just happened.

"I thought you guys were outside. I didn't see anyone and the door looked closed and I was thirsty," she explained. "I'm sorry."

"No…I am." I was apologetic for making her hide in the first place.

"Why's your brother so mean?" she asked me. "He's like…kinda creepy, too. I didn't see it at first, but…" her eyes widened, "—I see it now."

"He's not." I sat next to her. "Damion's…one of the best guys I know. He's been going through some shit." I couldn't make heads or tails of my brother's changes in behavior, so I wasn't gonna try to explain. His inner demons were none of Maggie's business anyway. "He thinks I'm taking advantage of you—of the situation, and he might be jealous."

"You're not," she said. "If…whenever I see him, I'll tell him you were nothing but a gentleman." Maggie drank from the bottle of water. "And why should he care? He didn't exactly have the best intentions when I met him…not that I was some halo-wearing saint."

Her mentioning the night she met him again had _me_ feeling a twinge of jealousy. There's no taking back the past, so I had to let that shit go. Damion didn't stake any claims, either—they hadn't even kissed.

I remember that night, though—my brother being on the fence about the whole thing. Dad wanted him to take her home, and I encouraged him to go for it.

And he didn't even kiss her…

The whole situation was mind-boggling, and I wished I could get a straight answer from Damion.

Does he just wanna fuck her?

Or…is he truly looking out for her best interests?

"You don't have to tell him anything," I murmured, leaning back. "I'm not ashamed to be with you—to be seen with you." I really wasn't; her age didn't matter to me, not anymore.

"My parents and your parents—they can't know. I mean, I think your mother might be cool with it." She shrugged. "But my parents…they'd flip out. It's been decided since, like, ever…that I was going to be a nun." She frowned, looking to the floor.

"You can still be a nun…" I knew I hadn't ruined her for Jesus.

"Oh, I know," she agreed, turning to face me and cross her legs. "There's just a whole world out there. There are so many options…so many experiences I'd like to have. And my beliefs will travel with me down whichever path…" Maggie trailed off.

I nodded. "You have…your whole life ahead of you. You're only eighteen." I knew I'd done a whole lot of living by the time I was her age, but her life had barely just begun. "And you might go down ten different paths before you reach the right one. You'll make mistakes that you'll learn from, too. But you're right…you don't hafta be a nun in order to serve God, help humanity. You might even fall in love, wanna get married someday, and have babies."

"Falling in love and all that stuff seems scary." She was embarrassed by her admission.

"It can be… Love makes people do irrational things, can make people crazy." I yawned, knowing we had to stay awake for the personal shopper to come by—take her out to eat. "Even the _idea_ of love. Infatuation can blind people, or make them think they're in love." My thoughts quickly went back to the Katie debacle, and how my feelings had changed so fast—making me wonder if my emotions were ever genuine.

"I just never gave that stuff any thought before. It's silly, but…growing up, the saints, they were my heroes?" She grimaced as she peeked back at me.

I wasn't going to judge her, and I waited for her to elaborate.

"They did all these good deeds, changed the world. Since I was a kid, that's all I wanted to do…It seems stupid now, an insane thought because of how _huge_ the world is."

"No, it's not stupid or insane." I stared at her, her gorgeous face. "You already make the world a beautiful place." I leaned over to bite her cheek again.

Maggie giggled, hugging me tightly. "Thank you for saying that. I don't know when I'll break the news to my parents. I still plan on going to college. Maybe in about four years?"

I smiled, kissing a trail from her ear to her mouth, humming to agree.

/=/=/=/=/

Maggie was more enthused by the concept of new clothes when the shopper arrived. She only protested once before just accepting the rack full of garments.

However, when she ducked into the bathroom to try them on—to decide what she'll be keeping—I paid the lady for everything. The suits she brought along with the shirts were dapper, too, and I knew they'd fit. I'd written down my exact measurements earlier.

I left Maggie to her devices in the bathroom while I straightened up a little. I'd also put the box of rubbers in the nightstand, hoping we'd use them later. Then I called my buddy Mike. Since I didn't have a car, and Maggie needed to be taken home in the morning, he was to meet us here at six a.m.

Out of boredom—Maggie was taking too long—I perused the room service menu. The food looked pretty good, and I really wasn't in the mood for sushi. I wanted a hamburger, maybe a big steak. Knowing Maggie would be agreeable, I didn't think long on it, but I'd ask her.

Maggie eventually pushed the rack outta the bathroom. Her hair was in a knot and she still wore her bathrobe.

"How'd it go?"

"Okay, I guess…a couple of things were tight but everything fit," she said.

My eyes fell on the mini-dresses, knowing those were supposed to be snug. "Cool."

"Where's that lady?" Maggie peered around the room.

"She had to go." I shrugged.

"Santino—"

"They're yours," I said, pulling her into my arms. "I told you—everything's negotiable, except how I choose to spend my money."

"It's a _waste_ of money. Did you see the tags?"

I kissed her to shut her up. "You haven't taken a vow of poverty yet…" My words made her smile. "Say 'thank you,' and change this man's world today before you change the rest of it. _Capisce_?"

Maggie swallowed. "Stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?" I laughed, refusing to let her go.

"Just…the way you do. You're gonna gimme a heart attack." She beamed.

I nodded to agree, reaching between us. "I thought the same seeing you naked the first time." I untied her sash to snake my arms under the fabric, a groan sounding from me. "You're beautiful, and the way your body feels against mine…" My hands spanned her back, roaming up and down.

Maggie wasn't as coy this time, stepping back to let her robe fall to the floor.

I reached up to let her hair down, swearing I'd never seen anything as stunning—as breathtaking as she was in this moment. "Wow." Mesmerized, I stared, trying to memorize everything—hoping to store the image away for rainy days when I might need some sunshine.

Maggie cleared her throat, which broke me from my reverie. My eyes flashed to hers, but I was speechless—a little embarrassed. "You've yet to teach me anything." She undid my robe, her finger running along the waistband of my boxers. "You're supposed to be my devilishly handsome professor of pleasure." Her lips ghosted along my chest, and I held her there, weaving my fingers into her hair.

Little did she know that her words had totally taken me outta the moment. That "devilishly handsome" comment made my mind wander back to my brother. I'm not stupid, and Dame might be a genius—phrasing his words in a biblical sense—knowing Maggie to be the only one to understand his meaning.

I knew that was what he did, but was he calling me a snake? I mean, a serpent? But a serpent's a snake, right? My days at Sunday school and CCD were long lost to me.

"What's wrong?" Maggie furrowed her brow, moving out of my arms.

I stopped her from getting too far. "A lot on my mind." I was honest. "Too much. I'm thinking too much." I laughed at myself, at the irony. "What, uh…before, what my brother said about the devil being handsome?"

Her brows rose in surprise. "When I said 'devilishly'…I meant, like, insanely, otherworldly." She seemed to understand. "I wasn't calling you a devil, nor comparing you to Satan." Maggie was more offended by the thought than I was. "Please, don't think that. You've been nothing but honest, stating the intentions you have…" Now she wasn't as comfortable being naked.

I helped her to cover herself.

"Thank you," she whispered. "You've been nothing but sweet and kind to me—and more than generous. I also wouldn't be here unless I wanted to be." She grasped my hands, and then one of those sly smiles pulled at her lips. "I thought _I_ was the virgin, and you're having more…moral conundrums than me."

I grinned down to her.

Maggie pulled on my hand, leading me over to the couch. "I'm just getting to know you, but I don't think you're a bad person. You seem hard on yourself, too hard, and you put your brother on a pedestal? You've said more nice things about him than of yourself. Santino, like I said…I'm not innocent, but I was there that night."

"Don't." I placed my finger to her lips.

"No…you should know. Especially how what he said applied to him in my eyes. Again, I don't see you as some satanic figure." She rolled her eyes. "In the bible, it says that Lucifer was so in love with his looks, his intelligence, and his abilities that his heart was lifted up in pride, which is—"

"A sin." I remembered that much.

"After God Himself, Lucifer was the most worshipped and revered. He became ambitious, prideful, and then he fell from grace—was kicked outta Heaven. Long story short, he was so persuasive and manipulative, he took a third of Heaven with him to fight alongside him in his war against God. And…it's said that he can still appear as an angel of light, which is how he deceives many to this day."

"Angel of light, huh?" I raised a brow in jest, wondering if there was something unholy about Maggie, how she'd drawn me in like a moth to a flame, how she'd bewitched me from the get-go. But then I remembered that only _I_ knew _my_ thoughts.

"Yeah," she agreed. "But, Santino…most stories in the bible _are_ stories, Christian mythology. My faith is unwavering, something I never questioned, but I know most references to the devil…they're truly metaphorical for sins? Showing examples of how the most devout, most…basically how _the best_ of our kind can fall from grace." Maggie was very enthusiastic while speaking of this shit.

"You've done nothing to deceive me or manipulate me. I don't know what any of it means, but I know being with you feels good. I know that, no matter what happens, I won't live to regret last night or today because they were my decisions," she ranted, her voice rising even more. "Sometimes, the way you look at me—it makes me dizzy, like I might fall on my face, but from grace? What kinda Catholic would I be if I didn't believe in the 'free and unmerited favor of God. As manifested in the salvation of sinners and the bestowal of blessings?'" Maggie threw her hands up.

"Brings a whole new meaning to 'sin six days and ask for forgiveness on Sunday,'" I laughed, getting a kick outta Maggie right now.

"Technically…hey." She shrugged, sitting back.

My hand came to rest on her thigh, loving how soft her skin was. "Did you still wanna go out? Still in the mood for sushi?"

She scrunched her nose. "I've never had sushi before."

"Seriously?" I scooted closer. "We'll remedy that. There's a great place right in Bay Ridge. But how 'bout we order room service tonight?"

Maggie palmed my cheeks, pulling me down to nibble on my earlobe.

My eyes rolled back, my breath hitching at the jolt of sensation...

And then my head was between her thighs again, wanting her to work up an appetite.

The both of us were famished, and we didn't waste any time digging in when the food arrived. We got burgers, kept it simple, and I surprised myself when I had a soda—not beers with dinner or a scotch for dessert to help me relax.

I'd been drinking heavily—a lot more than I used to—for the past month. Not reaching or feeling the need to imbibe some sort of alcohol was noticeable.

Then we talked some more…

It was nice and fun, and I laughed more times than I had in a long while. She told me more about her family, mainly her eccentric, yet very strict, parents. Maggie already seemed to know a lot about my family.

But she knew nothing of our biggest, not-so-classified, secret.

Anyone who kept up with current events would know, which made me wonder why her parents were cool with her being Kylie's friend. My sister's no criminal mastermind by any means. Mom plays a huge role at our church; my parents actually keep it going year after year with donations and funding fundraisers.

And Dad's this…pillar of the community, like the mayor of Bay Ridge.

Trust me. I believe the stories, know he was probably the scariest motherfucker to ever walk the streets of Brooklyn back in the day—his reputation within the organization hasn't changed, precedes him, as they all fear him.

Nowadays, he's seen as this entrepreneur slash venture capitalist who can't catch a break to the general public, always being hassled by the FBI.

Overall, people see the good, and Mom makes him take most of the credit when it comes to her charities.

Hopefully the Sullivans could see beyond recent claims that remain unproven any-fucking-way.

I goof with outsiders, and even the Feds, how there's no such thing as organized crime, or the mafia.

With trying to change shit up last month, placate Katie, it didn't take me long to realize that nothing will ever be 100% legit.

It's impossible, unless…

No.

_It's just impossible._

My little slice of Wall Street on Mulberry would turn into a drain on my personal economy if made kosher.

_Fuck that. _

And, essentially, bringing this family into the twenty-first century from a technical, computerized standpoint has been _my_ thing. Don't get me wrong. My father and other old-timers had come a long way from shaking motherfuckers down, bookmaking, shylocking, and various other rackets that are small potatoes now. All of which doesn't mean those ancient ways of making dough aren't some people's bread and butter.

There are just so many various ways to steal and skim—methods and techniques the Feds haven't caught wind of yet—that it makes my head spin.

But, mostly and especially as of late, I've been too busy trying to be a good boy—focusing my talents on the different fronts we have, running our semi-lawful businesses. It'd been for my own benefit, not wanting to lie to Katie, and for Dad as well; it's less for him to do.

Also, between Aro and myself, we take some heat off my father, and we're his eyes and ears.

If push came to shove, _any_ capo_ could_ get a sit-down with the Skip. Especially if the cause were great enough, but my father doesn't speak business, confer with anyone other than Aro, Carlisle, and myself.

_It's plausible deniability at its finest, the main reason middle management exists in our thing. _

Since he's perceptive, Dad knows everything, but he's willfully ignorant of the actions of others, unless he's personally involved. It's all about passing the buck to avoid blowback, although my father would never shift blame in a court of law, or otherwise, to get himself off the hook. He would, however, be able to deny and exhaust any and all of his amendment rights. And if there's no evidence to the contrary, it won't hold up any way, which can prove the _deniable_ plausible.

We give any and all orders doled out from him, and most…accept that as the way things are now.

Regardless of my status as heir-apparent, our associates would rather deal with Aro, or will bust many balls to meet with my father…and I gotta show a firm hand.

_Fuck relenting. _

If there's one thing I've learned being my father's son: they _will_ respect me, whether it's outta fear or admiration.

All of my thoughts faded when we got into the Jacuzzi. Knowing we had to be up early, I didn't wanna fumble around, rush to get her off to school.

And taking my time, bathing the beautifully naked woman in my arms…

I truly enjoyed myself, probably too much as I'd also washed her hair, practically insisted on it. I just liked caring for her, finding pleasure in the most mundane of tasks. I also had to apply a bunch of conditioner since she'd already washed her hair earlier. Maybe I should have let her explain when she protested?

Eh, fuck it.

Maggie enjoyed our bath, too. Very much, as I'd made sure she came again.

When we were dry, we got back into bed, and I set the alarm clock.

That was also when Maggie reached for my cock again.

At this point, I wasn't sure what my reluctance was. I found myself hoping there'd be other nights like this, more days I'd be able to spend with her.

I didn't want to say goodbye…not forever, anyway.

But I also feared the thought of getting bored, or hurting her in some way.

_If I were to ever cause her pain, wouldn't it be better to have ultimately given her more than I've taken?_

The excitement of having popped her cherry was still there...

And so was the exhilaration, the eagerness, the buzz-worthy delight that was the possibility of more?

I just hoped my baser instincts could stay at bay until morning…the earliest.

* * *

**Thank you for reading. **

**Please leave me your thoughts. **

**Next, we'll hear from Maggie. But no worries. We'll hear from Santino again. **


	4. Chapter 4

**Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**Beta'd by HollettLA.**

* * *

**Chapter Four **

**Maggie POV**

_**S**_ince I didn't recognize the sound, I nearly fell out of bed when the alarm went off.

Luckily for me, there was a pair of very strong arms holding me tightly. Then, there were suddenly soft, yet forceful, lips making their way down my neck.

For a second, I had to remind myself that this wasn't some naughty dream.

"Santino…" I sighed, to make sure I hadn't conjured the last thirty hours in my sick brain, as it all seems too good to be true, and I'd been waiting to wake up.

"Morning, baby," he grunted, pushing that…that big thing into my hip.

I moaned, weaving my fingers into his hair, hoping this was it—that we'd finally go all the way again.

Our touches were needy, almost greedier this morning, the passion off the charts—making me dizzy and gasp for air—overwhelming me to the point of no control.

Santino didn't need my permission to do anything.

I wanted him to enjoy my body, for us to be connected the way we had been.

Plus, from what I'd heard, it feels amazing after the initial intrusion.

And I wanted to touch him, place him in my mouth…

I didn't know how to do the latter, but I hoped he'd tell me how he liked it.

When Santino's mouth landed on my breast, when his hand reached low to touch me…I actually stopped him.

"What's wrong?" he asked, breathless, and I knew he was turned on, too; I could feel it.

"Why can't I do things to you?" My fingers ran along his muscular chest and shoulders, nearly forgetting my inquiries. "Why can't we have sex, like we did on the roof?"

He groaned into my neck, and it wasn't a good groan. "I did say that I aimed to please you—" he placed more kisses on my skin, creating the most delicious fire in their wake "—and women, females as a whole…It's a scientific fact that they get more pleasure in clitoral stimulation." Santino leaned back to look at me. "So…if we fucked, you'd only be doing it for me, and it's all about you, baby."

"What…?" I sat up to face him, confused, and we almost bumped foreheads.

"Females don't…get a lot of enjoyment from, um, intercourse." He nodded.

My brows quirked in question, skeptical. "Even the stupid teenagers at my school—they all say how wonderful it is, and Kylie's always drooling and talking about her boyfriend in that way, and my classmates are doing it with other classmates—who, according to you, don't know what they're doing." I let out a breath, having forgotten about just waking, and then I slumped lower to try to hide my mouth with the sheet.

"What are you saying?" His tone was hostile, which shocked me. "You'll fuck one of the kids at your school if I don't hit it _right_ now?"

"What?" I practically screamed, clueless as to how he'd draw that conclusion. "No! No way." If he only knew…after having done it, after being as intimate with him, I couldn't picture myself being that way with anyone else...not when he starred in every sexual thought I had. "No…I wouldn't, couldn't. I just know that you lied, and you haven't lied to me yet, not that I know of. Why start now?" I steeled my upper lip, refusing to get emotional but feeling too much at the same time.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I must be buggin'." A boisterous laugh escaped him. "Just the thought, and even the other night… Anyway, we don't have the time it'd take for…me to do it…right."

Disappointment washed over me, knowing there'd never be another time like the present. After we leave this hotel, we'll go back to our lives, and how things were before.

For me, it wasn't necessarily a bad thing, having never really wanted or asked for more. Sure, I wish I had more friends, that school wasn't as horrible, but…life has been better lately.

I'm in my senior year. I have a job, thanks to Kylie who's been such an amazing friend, confidante. I already loved her deeply, and I was going to miss her since I have a scholarship that'll get me far, far away from New York.

Santino was…almost larger than life, and he didn't need me clinging to him, getting caught up, which was something Kylie had warned me about. She broke it all down for me on our way to the restaurant Halloween night. She'd already said a lot about him, but she stressed the fact that he couldn't make commitments. He was the guy that girls used to make their boyfriends jealous—the type of dude to have fun with, a catch and release type thing.

Sadly, while on the roof…

I forgot all about it, or maybe I just didn't care?

_I'd have to figure that out with time. _

"Okay," I agreed with him, thinking maybe it was better not to get caught up in…all that, push it out of my mind, or pray for a solution. "I'll go get ready."

Santino stopped me from leaving the bed. "Just…okay? No argument?" He was confusing me this morning, wasn't elaborating like he'd been, being vague.

"Did…you want me to argue?" I stared back at him.

He shook his head before collapsing onto the bed. "Go get ready for school."

In the dark, I stuck my tongue out at his bossy tone, swearing all men were…possibly like a Rubik's Kube? Fun in theory but a real pain in the tush to figure out?

As I brushed my teeth, my foot tapped, and I became angrier and angrier.

He's been very blatant in not wanting sex, has denied every advance I've made.

The one time I _don't _protest he gets upset…?

I didn't understand, or did he find pleasure in teasing me, in my acute humiliation?

My last thought brought me down a notch as I stared into the mirror. My hair was a total wreck, my cheeks were pink without blushing—a little raw from Santino's stubble. And I had circles around my eyes.

I spit out my toothpaste. "Yuck."

Then I quickly put on the sweat suit from the other night; the outfits Santino bought for me yesterday were too elaborate and yet skimpy to wear around my parents.

There was a good chance I'd see my dad this morning since we both leave at the same time. Thankfully, he doesn't teach at my school.

Santino and I were fairly quiet on our way out. He swore he'd get the clothes to me, and I assured him—without sounding ungrateful—that there was no rush. I had no way of explaining the new wardrobe to my family; I was sure I couldn't hide it.

Someone pulled up to the curb in a fancy car. It seemed like it was a friend of Santino's, but I was never introduced. That dude was quick to leave the vehicle he'd arrived in and enter another parked behind us.

Santino ushered me into the passenger side, and I saw that both the sun and the moon were out. It's rare I get to see such a sight, so I tried to by craning my neck. But with the tall buildings in Manhattan, and once I was in the car, the picturesque view was lost to me.

We zoomed through the tunnel.

All the traffic was headed toward Manhattan, away from Brooklyn, and I wondered how long it'd take Santino to get back. I actually voiced that, needing to say something. The silence in the car, besides the hip-hop music, was deafening.

"I gotta few things to do in Brooklyn… I gotta meet my uncle for breakfast and stop at my apartment. It shouldn't be too bad when I head back."

"Cool," I said.

He squeezed my hand, and I appreciated the gesture. "We're still going for sushi, right?" he asked, flashing me a brilliant grin; it filled my stomach with butterflies. "We'll go…Friday or Saturday, whenever date night is?"

I wasn't aware dates had to be on designated days, but I agreed.

"Good." He lifted my hand to kiss it. "We'll exchange numbers, too—we'll talk before next weekend, I'm sure."

Nervous, I winced. "Um…I don't have a phone. We have a landline, but…if you called and asked for me…holy moly." I didn't wanna think of the aftermath, the line of questioning to follow.

Honestly, I could say that Santino didn't look twenty-seven.

But he didn't look, nor sound like a teenager either.

He's all man.

Jesus.

_Sweet, and merciful, Lord—how am I supposed to get through the week? _

Now, all I could think about was next weekend.

"I wish I could walk you to your door, but…" We were on my block already. "This ain't my whip—no one would recognize me with the tinted windows. But I don't want no one thinking you're leaving some strange guy's ride mad early in the mornin'. Understand?"

I nodded, my stomach achy.

He parked a few houses down from my own, a couple past his parents', which was smart.

If my dad saw me, he'd see me coming from the correct direction.

Unsure how to say goodbye, I mumbled "take care" before opening the car door.

Santino stopped me, reaching over to slam it shut. "Chill a second." He reached into his jacket for his wallet, the early rays of sun making his gun shine.

I averted my gaze, telling myself to remember to ask Kylie about it.

Last I heard, a lawyer being an officer of the court wasn't…that literal, in a protective stance. Or, he could carry it for protection of some sort? My dad has a rifle for hunting and stuff locked away.

"Take this." He handed me a business card. "Wait…" Santino produced a pen and scribbled another number down, adding it to the long list printed under his name.

"You're a stockbroker?" I asked.

"Yeah…I got my license while in law school." He faced the road, sighing. "As it turns out, I gotta real knack for it."

"Oh." I opened my purse to place it inside, securely.

"Make sure you hunt me down if you ever need me. That last number, the one I wrote down…that's my…personal number." He pushed his hair back and then scratched the stubble on his chin. "I shoulda shaved."

I smiled, thinking he was adorable right now. "Okay."

Santino leaned toward me, gently holding my chin, which made my breath catch. "Remember what I said about dudes? If there's no answer the first time you call, it's always best to blow up their phone—call as many times."

Having learned his advice untrue, I smiled wider, feeling my cheeks get hot. "You just want me to call you."

"Am I that transparent?" He winked, touching his nose to mine. "You should go." He licked his lips. And he was so close, if I would've done the same, our tongues would have touched. "You should really go before I kiss you," he whispered; I didn't move. "We might get caught." He took in our surroundings rapidly.

His last words had sobered me, and I agreed.

But…

I did close the distance, landing a short peck on his lips.

My bold action was to be a parting gesture, but he didn't let me get away—not that I wanted to escape his clutches, at all.

Santino's kiss was unlike mine. It was longer, involved a lot more tongue and passion, and then he pulled away.

The absence of his mouth left me stunned.

"Go." He pointed to the street, not facing me.

Santino was cold again, standoffish, confusing me like he did earlier. He was infuriating because I didn't know how he could shut himself down that fast…unless he really wants me to go, is afraid of getting caught?

Of course, unlike back at the hotel, I saw his point—reluctantly leaving the car. When I'd made it, with wobbly legs, to my side of the block, the screeching sound of tires made my head whip to the street. Santino had reversed the pretty vehicle, now parked a few houses before mine.

I tried not to stare, keeping my head down as I walked to my home, knowing he was still there. His timing was impeccable, too. As soon as I got my door open, I heard him driving past me.

I sighed, my back slamming the door shut with gusto.

"Margaret?" my father called.

"Yes, sir…I'm home." My voice was wrong, warbled and shaky, and I tried to shake that off.

My father appeared, leaving the kitchen. "Well, go get ready for school, child. It's late." He pointed to his watch. "I was about to call on the Cullens."

I gaped at him like a nervous fish.

Did I look any different?

Was there now a scarlet letter branded to my forehead?

"I'm sorry…um, sir." I managed to give him a smile. "We overslept—watched movies until late last night."

"Nothing untoward, I hope?"

"No…absolutely not," I said. "Mr. and Mrs. Cullen are very involved in everything that Kylie does." That wasn't a lie, although I don't think they'd care if Kylie watched something X-rated. "Her mom was there, watched with us." I remembered not to oversell it and shut up. "I'll lock up—you don't have to wait." I ran up the stairs, nearly tripping in my haste.

My uniforms were already set, hanging in my closet, and I changed my clothes crazy fast. I didn't even bother with stockings, no matter how chilly, and pulled my knee socks up before stepping into my shoes.

There was still color to my cheeks as I pushed a headband into place on my head.

After making sure I had everything for the day, I looked to my day planner, and I'd totally forgotten about my shift at the tanning salon.

As I ran down the steps, I almost bumped into my father.

He steadied me. "Relax…You have a few minutes before you catch the bus." Dad was in good spirits this morning, finding humor in my actions. "It certainly is nice that the Cullens have been letting you stay there."

"They know Mom's out of town." That wasn't even a decent excuse because that shouldn't matter. "And you work so much, and now I'm working, too. I'm working today…after school."

"Good." He patted my cheek, still proud I'm working, even if I'd acquired the job through Kylie. "I know the house seems empty without Mom and Mary-Joe. God forgive me for enjoying the quiet, though." He chuckled. "You're an exceptional child, Margaret. It's a relief not having to…truly worry; I know I can trust you."

Now, I thought he was testing me, waiting for me to confess.

"I do my best…" I didn't know what else to say. "Well, I try."

He kissed my hair. "Have a good day."

"You too, sir." I snatched my coat and booked it out the door.

I'd intended on making a mad dash to Third Avenue, but I saw Mr. Cullen picking up his newspaper. He wore a scowl, his hair was messy, and he was in pajamas.

I waved. "Good morning, Mr. Cullen."

He did a double take and then jerked his chin at me.

And that was _definitely_ a judgmental gesture.

I bet he knows I slept with his son, thinks I'm this huge whore-bag now.

"Go to school, Maggie." His words made me jump, and I realized I'd just been standing there. "Santino's not here. No need to linger in the street, and don't start sneaking into my yard in the middle of night again. It's dangerous to be out that late, and he don't live hea'."

I thought I'd keel over and die, but I did the next best thing. Since he didn't think me weird enough, I ran toward the opposite avenue. I'd just about made it to the bus stop when a sleek and shiny car stopped in front of it.

Knowing it was Santino, overjoyed and surprised to see him, I just got in. "Drive!"

"Somebody chasin' you?" He looked behind me.

I shook my head. "No…but I saw your dad and mine. It was terrible. They know. I think my dad's suspicious, and yours…" I groaned, palming my face.

"Uh…I _did_ tell my father," Santino whispered, pulling away from the curb. "We're pretty close. There's not much I don't tell him."

"Oh…" Having it confirmed was even worse. "He probably thinks I'm this…loose little girl now."

"No!" he shouted. "Hell no! Don't say that."

"He told me not to linger in the street, sneak into his yard late at night—'cause you don't live there," I explained. "I probably can't hang with Kylie now."

"That's bullshit," he laughed, zooming through a yellow light. I might make it to school with minutes to spare now. "I assure you…My father's concern—not wantin' you chillin' in the streets, sneakin' out late…It has more to do with your safety. And he knows, as sure he knows the sky is blue, that if_ I_ wanna spend time wit'chu I will…no matter_ what_ he said, or what he thought." He glanced at me.

My stomach tied in knots. "But he knows—"

"Sorry to burst your bubble, baby. But you told Kylie something that pertains to me, that includes me. I'm sure she'll let it slip to my mother—sooner or later." He shrugged.

My eyes widened. "I'm gonna tell her not to."

"Okay." He squeezed my thigh. "Yeah, that'll work." Before I could relax, he added, "Besides, thinking back, I think my mother wanted us to hook up—be friends. I'm not sure, nor do I care. Just…don't you start thinking too much of it. We did what we did…and they only know about us chillin' at Midnight Sun. Kylie knows to keep our stay at the hotel secret. I made it worth her time."

I nodded to agree. "That's good... And what about Damion and his girlfriend?"

His face fell for a second. "He won't say nothin'. We're brothers, which means even if he hates me—and _he does_ right now—I still have his discretion. I dunno what your relationship is like with your sister. Well, you told me she's young. When she's older and you're older, youse'll be the best of friends and worst of enemies. But the love…that doesn't go nowhere."

I placed my hand on his. "I don't know what's goin' on with you guys, but I hope it settles soon." I pursed my lips, curious, and wanting to know more. "It wasn't my idea to make him jealous. Even so—" _the whole thing is just ridiculous to me_ "—I didn't think Kylie's silly plan would work. I told you…I was upset he acted like he didn't know me, which was insulting?" I stared at his side.

"Maggie, whatever happened the night youse met, however way you felt—it doesn't matter, doesn't bother me. I mean, youse didn't even fool around." He chuckled, nervous and kinda dark?

I hummed.

After all, we discussed this at great length last night. Just talking, getting to know one another, and that was great. I tried my best to explain that night and what happened, how I'd been feeling, and I really struggled with it.

Because it was such a confusing time for me, the night hazy in my mind.

And every day since…

It's been topsy-turvy

Sometimes I'm at a loss, lost at sea without a life jacket—feeling like I'm drowning—and other instances leave me puzzled.

I keep asking myself if anything will make sense again, if things will settle down.

The worst part of all this is wanting to blame my parents—for my inexperience in life, for sheltering me, for not letting me grow and be as mature as my peers.

I can chalk up being socially awkward to not having any friends.

Or, maybe it's no one's fault? Maybe I would've had friends if _I_ wasn't the way I was?

Either way, it's probably all me; being shy, timid, and mildly embarrassing is my personal curse.

And I really wanted to tell Santino all of that.

But no.

I doubt he'd understand.

He's the…epitome of cool, suave, and sexy, and I bet he's a lot smarter than me. Well, he's older and undoubtedly wiser. Santino went to college, law school, and he's had many life experiences, while there's also a hard edge to him, making him totally freaking badass.

The man was lethal.

I'd bet better women than me have swooned, dropped like flies, or have thrown panties at him. I don't know; however, I do know that I find his sexual prowess intriguing, appealing, and…hot.

I'm not sure if that's an attribute other people find alluring.

_Hey, it could just make me more of a freakazoid. _

Thinking of our differences does pose a huge question…

What's a successful Adonis, beefcake, macho-man of a dude doing hanging out with a misfit screwball like myself?

Seriously…I'm not the least bit interesting, or even funny, to _balance_ the fact that I'm _not_ drop-dead-gorgeous.

Plus, if this past month of constant jumbled thoughts has taught me anything, it's that I know absolutely nothing.

And I'm in high school.

What the hell is he doing still hanging around me?

"We're human, we have feelings…" He stopped at a red light and turned to me, but I'd been lost in my own thoughts; forgot what he was talking about. "What's important to me is knowing that what we did, what we have now…that your actions are genuine." He furrowed his brow, taking off when the light turned green.

"Oh." I remembered now. "I told you. I only thought…I liked him, but I didn't know him." I didn't know how much I should admit, regarding my feelings for Santino.

Even though we're polar opposites—he's perfection and I'm the embodiment of imperfection—I couldn't help the way I felt, bewilderment included. Knowing how special the past two days have been to me, and that being with Santino had absolutely nothing to do with his brother, it could all be one-sided. He's casual and I'm…

I don't even know what I am, but I had to say something. "Santino, being with you has been—"

"We don't gotta talk about it," he spoke over me and touched his knuckle to my lips.

"Right." I looked to the window and watched the streets whizz by.

"By the way, you look absolutely scandalous in your fuckin' uniform." He had a naughty glint in his eyes; it made the butterflies start up. "You still a Girl Scout?"

I shook my head. "I'm supposed to volunteer this year 'cause I'm too old. Wait, how'd you know I was…?" I stared at his profile.

He placed his hand on his chest. "You sold my mother a shitload of Thin Mints last year…and I was…just gonna suggest you get a better fitting outfit. 'Cause the one you wore last year was kinda small."

"No, it wasn't," I disagreed.

"Do you still have it?" he asked.

I nodded. "I think so…My sister grew a few inches over the summer. I think my mom's gonna tailor it for her."

"Oh." He grimaced, parking in front of the bus stop by my school. "There's a few patches you've yet to earn, though…if I'm to be your _professor_ of things." He smirked at me.

I sighed, loving the filthy innuendo that came out of his mouth. But then I blinked, realization dawning on me. I'd been visibly swooning, and Santino talked a lot of crap while trying to be flirty and dirty. He wasn't really lying, but… "It's too bad you're all talk and no action, Santino… That would have been really cool, getting a penis patch for…blowing you." This time, he never reached for me and let me leave the car.

I felt amazing, kept my head up high, refusing to look back at him—

"Hey, get back here!" he shouted, trying to leave his car but getting caught in the seatbelt.

"I'll call you!" I hollered back.


	5. Chapter 5

**Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**Beta'd by HollettLA.**

* * *

**Chapter Five**

**Maggie POV**

"Hey, get back here!" he shouted, trying to leave his car but getting caught in the seatbelt.

"I'll call you!" I hollered back.

Truth was that no matter how victorious I'd felt, there were barely any students loitering outside. If I'd waited another minute longer, I would have been late.

Still, having Santino-brain, my mind drew a blank, and I walked right past the door to my homeroom. Everyone had already taken their seats, the teacher had started to take attendance, and I kept my head down—nearly running and stumbling for my desk.

What ensued was the longest fifteen minutes in the history of the world.

Until I got to first period.

I felt suffocated by my uniform, by the building I was in.

My mind was elsewhere, very far away from my studies. I couldn't even eat lunch, my stomach turning with excitement or...something else; I wasn't sure. Even if I hated being here today, I was still happy, still soaring from the high that was the past two days.

It was almost as though I was partially blind—able to see but unable to focus on a darn thing—yet I'd find myself staring aimlessly at random things.

I was also sighing a lot, which proved to be a self-soothing gesture; it helped to keep the butterflies in check.

And I kept trying to push it all away, out of my head.

It happened. We had sex, spent some more time together, had fun, had meals, and now it's over. Maybe we'd go out next weekend and maybe we wouldn't. The lack of any guarantees weighed heavily on me as well.

Nonetheless, I found myself hoping against all logic that I'd see Santino. Again. Today. That he'd somehow be here to pick me up from school.

Despite wanting him in all ways sexual, and regardless of his infuriating ways, I had a new friend in him. That was the only thing I knew I had in him, if nothing else. Everything's up in the air except that, our friendship, which we'd agreed to before the rest of it.

And if my nerves got the best of me, I had his contacts; I'd be able to call him.

It wasn't 'til I had French that I really woke up. First of all, it was last period—a measly forty-four minutes until I was outta here—and we had a surprise vocabulary quiz.

Zoning out and disappearing into Santino Land, where he's always naked and doing something to me with that mouth, wasn't an option.

I was finished with the short test pretty quickly, and I anxiously chewed on my pen, staring up to the clock.

Stopping at my locker took less than a minute, and I was glad I didn't run into any of those girls—the ones that make dismissal a horrible time of day for me.

Unlike this morning, where I was one of the last to arrive, I was one of the first to leave school.

I looked everywhere for Santino, but I didn't see him or any expensive-looking vehicles. Hanging around for ten minutes wasn't a waste of time. The bus was right on schedule to take me back to Bay Ridge.

During the ride, I'd refused to get down in the dumps. He never said he was coming back to pick me up; we'd made plans for next weekend, which I hoped were still on.

Having some time to spare, I stopped at the bagel shop to grab one—knowing I had to eat something before nervous butterflies turned into puke.

While I ate and walked along the avenue, I actually passed Santino's apartment—the building I'd always seen him go in and out of.

Yes, it's located between the bus stop and the tanning salon.

But how many others know me as some weirdo stalker?

I didn't glance at his doorway twice, taking a bite of my bagel while I attempted to cross the busy avenue. Then, since I'm a chickenshit, I walked to the opposite corner, waiting on the light.

To my surprise, as I approached the salon, I noticed Kylie outside. She was talking on her cell phone and then gasped when she saw me. "Gio, I gotta go—" She hung up on him, widening her arms. "What the hell, babe?"

"Huh?" I wasn't sure what she meant. "Am I late?"

"I didn't know if I'd get a call from my brother saying you weren't coming in, or…he'd screwed you into _penalization_—which means being paralyzed via penis." She wiggled her brows. "I've been there before."

I shook my head. "That's not what penalization means."

She waved a hand. "You gotta tell me everything before we go inside. My mom's in there." Kylie jumped up and down. "Please, tell me! What'd he buy you?"

"Um…" I didn't feel comfortable talking about what he'd bought me—that meant nothing to me. "Nothing."

"That's a lie." She waved her finger at me. "Sonny's the most generous guy I know. That bitch across the street was allegedly_ still_ about to have her husband's baby, and Sonny offered to give her a car."

"Oh…" That made a few outfits sound insignificant enough, but no.

Kylie sighed. "So, what'd _you_ get? A private jet?"

I giggled. "Nothing. We just…spent some time together. That's all."

She rolled her eyes but then appeared worried. "How many times did youse do it? Did you or Sonny check to make sure none of the condoms broke?" she whispered, pulling me away from the door. "Dude, you're not on birth control."

I hadn't thought about that, hadn't given it all much thought past the condoms, thinking they'd be good enough. "Um…"

"Don't worry. We can get you the morning-after pill. I've taken it before. It totally works." She nodded.

I didn't know how to tell her that—except for the first time, on the roof—we hadn't had sex. "I don't have to worry," I said.

She jutted her lower lip out, pouting and holding my cheeks. "Maggie, I hate that no one taught you about this stuff, and that you're so gullible—no, you're more naïve than gullible."

"Gee, thanks," I grumbled, but I knew she was on the mark.

"You just got a lot to learn. Like, did he say he pulled out, too? On top of wearing a rubber? 'Cause, they don't always."

"No…I mean, we didn't do that." I hid behind my left hand, my bagel occupying the other.

"Youse did anal?" Kylie slapped my arm. "What the hell? I haven't even done that yet."

"No! Just oral." I rushed out. "My God…no, not anal." Just the idea was much more frightening to me than any other sexual activity.

"Huh…?" Kylie was dumbfounded, an expression we often share. "Like, raunchy and nasty 69-styled sessions, or…he just let you suck him off?"

I cringed. "Neither. He…me and…" I felt like I had marbles in my mouth. "He didn't wanna have sex, and he…wouldn't let me touch him." It officially became embarrassing. "I did _everything_ I could possibly think of, too…to make him wanna, and…" I shrugged, at a loss. "Wow…he must not like me all that much."

"What…?" Kylie hissed. "Men _don't_ have to _like_ you, don't even have to think you _all that_ attractive to…fuck you. But to do that…to munch the cooter for nothing in return…? And I'm guessing it happened more than once." Her eyes were wide. "He put your needs before his own. Oh my God!" she shouted. "Can we please tell my mom? Just please!"

"No!" I grasped her biceps. "No one can know. Too many already do. Your whole family knows what we did at the club—"

"Sweetheart, you disappeared with Sonny. It wasn't an educated guess—a hard conclusion to make," she giggled. "Plus, he got _your_ legs to open up!" She stretched out her hands again, dying with laughter. "Now, I _know_ my bro has skills."

"Shut up." I massaged my forehead.

"You have it totally wrong, though." She squealed, was absolutely giddy now. "Maggie, it's not that he _doesn't_ like you, but that he likes you _too_ much." She jumped in place again, and I hated myself for wanting to believe her. "I never, not in a million years, saw this coming. Oh my God. This is awesome!" She hugged me tightly, quickly becoming rigid. "Crap. It's my dad. I gotta get inside." Kylie let me go fast, running into the salon.

I wasn't far behind her at all, my feet carrying me even faster into the break room to get rid of my stuff and the bagel.

Mr. Cullen could be heard from the back. He was yelling at Kylie, something about her being outside alone. Then, Mrs. Cullen argued about having been able to see her the entire time. I found the whole exchange to be odd. I know Kylie doesn't go out much, because she seems to have as many friends as I do, but they spoil her, let her go to nightclubs. I didn't think them very strict.

Emerging from the back room, I grabbed the broom. I couldn't stay in the lobby—or in the shop—with _all of them_ here. "I'm just gonna…" I showed Mrs. Cullen the broom.

She tilted her head, smiling and staring at me. "How was the rest of your weekend?"

"Fine," I said, hoping she couldn't sniff the lie out of me.

"That's nice, dear…" She started counting money from the register. "What'd you do yesterday?"

"Me…?" I asked, and they were all staring at me, but Kylie looked as nervous as I felt.

"Here…" Mrs. Cullen handed Mr. Cullen a bunch of money, and he slide an envelope toward her. "Hmmm?" She'd glanced back at me.

And I wondered if someone rented a blimp to write it in the sky—_Maggie was deflowered by Santino Cullen_.

"Oh, nothing much. I just…did some homework, caught up on some studying." I nodded, watching her take the same amount of money from that envelope. It made me wonder what was wrong with the other currency.

"Told you," Kylie said. "You owe me money." She peeked back to me. "She swore my brother was gonna whisk you off to someplace nice."

"He wish he had game as tight as mine." Mr. Cullen popped his collar, which made his wife giggly.

"Oh my God. Look at your face." Mrs. Cullen palmed my cheeks. "You're like a tomato."

"Uh…" I felt like I was gonna cry but reined it in best I could—about to die of mortification.

She looked to her husband. "Remember when Sonny would blush?"

"Yeah…" Mr. Cullen nodded. "Like a whore in church, but that only lasted until he was around fifteen."

Kylie giggled. "A whore in church. I love it." Her gaze whipped to mine. "Oh, he wasn't talking about you. That's just the way he talks."

"What?" Mrs. Cullen didn't understand, and she was still holding my face.

"Can I please sweep the sidewalk now?" I whispered, pleading. "We only hung out for a little while at the club. Honest. Please don't say anything to him." I didn't even mean to say all that.

"We'd never embarrass you." Mrs. Cullen kissed my hair.

Her husband chuckled. "Look, I think it's best on all fronts…if we all forgot about Halloween. Talking about it, makes it a bigger deal…" He looked to me briefly. "Whatever youse did was no big thing, something casual." He stared at his wife. "Planting ideas in hopeful minds—like meddling, for example—might get someone hurt. Especially when we know how _other parties_ get down. You feel me?"

Mrs. Cullen scoffed, waving him away.

"I…don't agree," Kylie said.

Her father turned to me. "Has Santino contacted you since the other night?"

"No," I was fast to say. "It really wasn't a big deal." I felt the chunks of bagel swimming around in my stomach.

"See?" Mr. Cullen asked. "I rest my case. He woulda contacted her already."

Mrs. Cullen punched her husband's bicep. "God…way to piss on every hope and dream, Edward."

"I had no hopes or dreams," I whispered, going toward the door.

"Can we just stop talkin' about it? She's a little girl for Christ's sake, and Santino is disgusting. I'm not proud of him right now!" he ranted.

I ran the rest of the way out, taking deep, calming breaths.

"You all right?"

Hearing_ his_ voice…

"Oh no," I mumbled, going for the curb.


	6. Chapter 6

**Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**Beta'd by HollettLA.**

* * *

**Chapter Six**

**Maggie POV**

Puking in public was even more mortifying than the inquisition.

Damion, who'd previously been leaning back against an SUV and smoking a cigarette, was nice enough to hold my hair back. "Geez. What happened in there? Did they get all…Cullen-like?"

I coughed, covering my mouth.

He massaged my shoulders. "You're okay."

The last thing I wanted was hands on me. I stepped away, shrugging him off. "Sorry you had to see that."

"Vomit doesn't bother me. I'm gonna be a doctor, remember?"

"Yeah." I sniffled, bending low to pick up the forgotten broom.

"I'll sweep." Damion held his hand out.

"I've never wanted to…to sweep more in my entire life." I held the stick close, not wanting him to take it away.

He chuckled. "You're a funny girl, Maggie."

"Apparently." I started to do the menial task, wanting so badly to just run home—quit the job I've only had a few weeks. More than that, I wanted my bed, to hide under my blanket.

"Funny's a good thing," Damion said.

"Yeah, I'm always good for a laugh." I was the butt of everyone's jokes today.

"You're adorably surprising. And, again, that's not a bad thing. I bet they used your blush as a button to play with." He touched my cheek.

I pulled away. "Don't you start. It's so funny. Ha. Ha." I was being kind of mean when I really wanted to cry.

"Hey…I was around…eighteen when I lost my virginity. Well, when I finally had sex with my girlfriend, I told Sonny. He assumed it was my first time and told my father, who told my mother. And it just so happened to be a Sunday, so our whole family was there for dinner when Mom served a cake…in honor of yours truly." He gestured to himself.

That was indeed worse than what I'd gone through, and I felt badly for smiling. "They didn't really do that."

He nodded, solemn. "Oh, yes, they did. My mother didn't announce the occasion to everyone, but there were enough whispers… It was horrifying," he laughed, throwing his head back. "Moral of the story, Maggie…In a few years, you'll look back on today and find it comical. The things you think so very important now will be insignificant." He held his lips. "Listen—" he stepped closer to me "—I never read your letter, which is something I regret now."

"Um…" I shook my head, silently thanking God he never did. "Be thankful. Don't regret it." I gave him a tight-lipped smile. "Reading it would've been a waste of time—time you'd never get back, thus wasting a small part of your life."

"Maggie…" Damion chuckled. "Can you tell me—"

"You don't wanna know," I sighed, hearing the clank of glass under the bristles of the broom.

"I'll get it. Don't touch it." Damion grabbed the chunk off the pavement; his stride rapid as he went to discard it into the trash can on the corner.

Relieved by the reprieve, I continued sweeping.

The thought of Damion reading my letter was downright humiliating, appalling—notably on account of it all being a farce, a fabrication of frivolous, immature, teenage and girly-like emotions.

Be that as it may, I wasn't necessarily dismayed learning that Santino had. He'd confessed on Halloween, and I was only...just slightly embarrassed, a little panicked really.

_I'd had some liquid courage that night as well, and maybe staying away from alcohol was a good idea_.

Mostly, I wondered what Santino had been thinking, in regards to what I'd written and why. I _knew_ he'd question my motives, how I could be on the roof with him when I wrote all that stuff about his brother. I thought he'd get the wrong impression, that _I was_ using him to make Damion jealous, that I was being a slut or something.

Last night, while we were talking, Santino and I spoke of it again. He elaborated, told me about how crazy that day had been—arguing with Katie, finding out the baby was his, and all of the heavy emotions involved. He simply forgot what was in his pocket, what I gave him to give to Damion. Santino had to leave or something and he gave the letter to his father…Christ.

Mr. Cullen read it aloud while Santino listened.

Apparently, they're nosy; the both of them curious as to what I'd had to say to Damion, and they thought it'd be funny.

Supposedly, they didn't find any humor in it, and they thought it was adorable…sweet. And their father _did_ give it to Damion, who—thankfully—threw it out or set it on fire.

Then, Santino again, complimented me on my honesty—how I could be as forthcoming as I had been—before I changed the subject and we took a bath together.

The note in question was juvenile and utterly ridiculous. In reality, it was written on a whim, and I gave myself no time to think about it. I jotted all my thoughts down, which were clouded by hormones and liquor, before drifting off to sleep. As soon as my parents went out the next day, I rushed to give it to Damion, and I stupidly hadn't reread the darn thing.

Handing it off to Santino was unexpected, but I remembered berating myself for being attracted to him—for being a blushing, smiling idiot, nearly swooning when our hands brushed—because, after the night I'd just had with his brother, I was somehow "betraying Damion."

_So stupid! There was nothing to betray, nothing had happened, and sometimes I wish brain transplants were possible. _

I actually gave Damion, intended to give him, my home phone number—had this crazy notion that Damion, the beautifully quiet and lanky boy from across the street, could be my boyfriend...possibly my date for the winter formal since I'm a senior, a loser, and have never been to a school dance before, and that night…my God.

While it certainly doesn't compare to recent events, that night was unlike any others _before_ it. Nothing like that had ever happened to me. Within a short span of time, I'd gone from being a child to a woman—something desirable. I also felt interesting along with being drunk and carefree for the first time in my life.

I was hopeful and confident; I swore I could reach the stars.

The following evening and the days to follow…

I'd never been more disappointed, that crestfallen, ever. But it was only because of how happy I _had_ been, the subsequent letdown, to be so high and then so low.

The reality of _everything_ came crashing down, making me reevaluate my experience with Damion, making me see the truth. How an evening I'd seen as magical was more like a figment of my imagination, how everything he'd said was a lie, and it was astonishing—felt like a truck had hit me.

Realizing I put too much stock into it, which _was _my fault...not his.

Depressed and frustrated that _I'd_ essentially done that to myself.

I was to blame for my own misery, as I'd let my mind get carried away.

And then it dawned on me that I didn't know him, couldn't remember most of what we'd talked about, what we did, because it all seemed murky and faded.

All I could recall were the glorious feelings I'd had along with flashes of his smile, remembering how warm his embrace was, and a few thoughts I'd had while we were together.

Anyway, we'd only hung out for a measly hour or two, and then I was wondering what it'd be like to be a doctor's wife. He could heal the sick while I fed and clothed the poor—we'd be blissful and together doing God's work, helping to change the world.

_Maggie, you're an idiot! _

Suddenly, I was laughing up a storm; I had to stop sweeping to compose myself.

"What's so funny?" Damion asked.

"Um…" I rolled my eyes—at myself, at my thoughts. "You don't wanna know."

He raised a brow. "I think I do."

I waved a hand. "Corny joke I heard. I don't even remember the punchline."

Yes, I'd been silly. I'd lied to myself—only saw and believed what I wanted, which _was_ all on me and _wasn't_ Damion's fault.

_Isn't that what a crush is? Thinking of them makes you giggly, and you daydream about outlandish fantasies? _

In actuality, Damion _had_ desired me, he _wanted_ to sleep with me; he'd said he _liked_ me—that stuff, I do remember—and it encouraged me. Those were serious admissions to me at the time.

As a result of my upbringing and my faith, I'd always equated making love to marriage—something sacred between two people, and _like_ would _surely_ lead to love.

Right?

_WRONG!_

Trust me; it didn't take long to learn I'd been wrong about all of that. Within a week, I'd had a million and one thoughts, and about a thousand revelations once I took off my rose-colored glasses.

_I think I grew up, matured a little…?_

I'd also spent hours on the internet reading articles like: "He's Just Not That Into You," "Ten Ways to Snag a Guy's Attention," "Twenty Ways to Make Him Want You," "Sometimes Sex is Just Sex," and "A Female's Guide to Understanding the Male Mind."

The best, most informative for me were "Sex Drive: How Do Men and Women Compare?" and "The Adolescent Brain: _Beyond_ Raging Hormones," both of which were Harvard studies, so they must be accurate.

Even if my new reading materials helped me get a better understanding of some crap, and it further proved just how isolated I'd been, how sheltered my parents had made me, nothing gave me a _direct_ answer.

Except…I'd learned _and_ accepted that the sexual urges I have are natural. Being perpetually horny and curious isn't a sin. I will _not_ go blind if I masturbate, go to Hell, kill my parents, nor make clowns and small children cry if I have impure thoughts. And it's not wrong to touch myself...if such thoughts occur.

_And then my own conclusion: God helps those who help themselves. _

Overall, I was relieved to find out I wasn't some sexual deviant. I'm a human girl, a young lady chock-full of hormones.

_And sex isn't a bad thing as long as you're safe! _

_And premarital sex dates back to…way before Moses wore short pants. _

_And…nothing's really special, monumental, no matter the initial excitement; there's nothing magical in this world, which is why fiction is important. Keeps hope alive, I guess. _

None of those commentaries compared to the cheesy, romance slash erotica stories I'd always scoured sites for. Nothing pertained to the bible, Christianity, or marriage…or even love.

_Lovemaking is also sex, but can only be called that when those involved exclusively LOVE each other. _

_There's so much more than that, though. So many ways to have sex—physically and emotionally, and sometimes, no emotions are involved; they don't have to be and that's okay!_

_Whoopee, fornication is when two people—or more, I'd learned, depending on your kink preference—get together for sexual activities, which isn't limited to intercourse. Included are oral sex and anal sex and…there's a lot of sick crap on the internet. _

_I digress._

But I was both relieved and dismayed by those facts, glad I'd finally learned the truth, and sad thinking I'd been…brainwashed because of my previous, and childish, mindset.

In any case, after that informative week had passed, I thought Damion and I were friends at the very least. And, yeah, I snuck into their yard, hoping to see him. It wasn't so our fictional, whirlwind romance could continue, or so he'd spout sonnets from the porch; I wanted to talk to him, had a great many questions.

I did _not_ expect to become _persona non grata_. Especially with seeing him around on a few occasions, and seeing him in passing after I'd befriended Kylie. He'd _know_ I was there, he'd see me walking in the street, and then he'd ignore me every time.

I've always blended in with the crowd, was relatively invisible to the world, but Damion had seen me, had noticed me the night we met. ME!

Then…I'm suddenly being treated like a leper?

To be disregarded as if I was trash, not even worth _the second_ it'd take to wave a hand or smile; it hurt and continued to hurt.

When you've never had any friends, you come to appreciate the ones you make, although...he was more of an acquaintance I'd had a steamy encounter with.

Either way, that's why I have all this animosity, a revulsion to the beautifully wicked Damion, the brutal boy from across the street.

My joyous wonderment and discontentment was _mostly_ my fault.

I guess he's not _totally_ evil.

_Regardless, all of that—everything—seems so stupid and unimportant now! _

Not because of Santino. Not because Santino makes me forget everything, including my name. It just took me a little while to figure out my feelings…and then the epiphany, the realization that _I had no feelings_ for Damion was startling since I'd basically tortured myself for no reason for more than a week. I was over the whole Damion-thing before I chilled with Santino.

However, for reasons unknown, I was sick and tired of Damion acting as if I didn't exist. Never acknowledging me, even if I was right in front of him. I wore that stupid costume and it wasn't even a costume; it was lingerie with wings, a slutty fairy. I thought it'd at least get him to look at me, and then I could demand to know what his problem was.

And if he said something mean, I could throw my drink in his face before making a dramatic exit.

Something he wouldn't forget.

Ha!

_I've seen too many movies._

_Read too many books. _

Sadly, life isn't scripted, and…I'm not that clever or brave.

But being ignored by him—once more—the other night really stung.

And being with Santino on Halloween, yesterday, this morning was…still a complete mind-fuck.

_Hopefully, it'll take less than a week to recover from it. _

"What'd it say? The letter?" Damion asked.

Thankful that he'd interrupted my internal monologue, I turned to him, wondering how long I'd been mindlessly moving around. No, it couldn't have been too long—not even ten minutes.

"It wasn't important. Nope. Just ramblings of my stupid girl brain." I laughed, nervous again as I stepped away, sweeping the sidewalk in a different direction.

"Uh…I think you're good. It's swept." He gestured to the ground. "Can you stop so we can talk?"

I shook my head. "I'm not done with this."

"You're trying to avoid me…" He paced, circling me and lighting another cigarette. "Don't ignore me. My pops'll be out hea' any second and then I gotta bounce."

"I'm not ignoring you. I'm focusing on my work," I lied.

"Yeah, right… Any-_fucking_-way, I bet your note _was_ important," he said. "The night you gave it to me…Jesus Christ, Maggie. I can't even…tell you just how crazy it was. I felt horrible for making you cry."

"I got over it." I kept my tone low.

"Are you _sure_ about that?" he asked.

When I turned, he was a lot closer than I'd remembered. "I'm sure." I walked to sweep by the cars but away from my puke. Yuck.

"And—" he puffed on his smoke "—I think you might have made a _huge _mistake trying to get my attention." He poked my side.

I almost jumped out of my skin, reaching to hold the spot he'd touched; it tickled. "Hey!"

"You didn't have to do that, and you don't gotta play hard-to-get now, either." He walked toward me, making my back hit a parking meter, as he stole the broom from my grasp.

Confused, and for about a split second, I looked around and tried to figure out the recent scene. "I gotta go back in—"

"Come're, you." He pulled me farther down the block; my steps were reluctant yet loud, my feet stomping, he was dragging me so fast.

"Don't!" I was sure everyone would be talking about this, too. "Let go of me." Then I'll be accused of screwing both brothers.

Damion released my wrist but placed his hands against the wall on each side of me. "Just listen—"

"I'll listen; I promise to listen, but let's go back over there." I rushed out, trying to get back to the salon, and my attempt was futile.

Damion was insistent and very forceful, pushing me out of sight. He'd cornered me in a neighboring doorway, which couldn't be seen from the salon window. I didn't think—didn't know if he'd hurt me; I hoped he wouldn't, but I was more worried about the implications of our being alone together.

_I don't really know him. And on the surface, he didn't seem the type to cause me harm. _

_The night we met, he had the chance to hurt me, and he hadn't. _

_Damion could have also taken advantage of my drunk and feeble mind…but he hadn't. _

_He's training to be a doctor…_

_Doctors help sick people and people in general._

_Santino thinks the world of him._

In the short seconds it took me to get in this position, I tried to think up reasons to calm my already erratic nerves.

Obviously, I was hella nervous, a little angry while also feeling this fear all the way down to my bones. I could feel his breath hit my face, his nose nuzzling into my hair. I could smell the fabric softener and nicotine from his clothes, and…his hands holding my waist had me nauseous again.

A month ago, I would've done just about anything to be in this position; however, a lot had happened and changed. His closeness didn't cause me pain or discomfort, but this was highly disconcerting...and strange, as he felt like a complete stranger right now.

Hell, Damion Cullen_ is_ wickedly beautiful, and most women would probably kill to be in his arms right now.

And there were butterflies in my stomach, but they weren't the good, excited kind that Santino gave me.

I was stiff as a board—panicked, stuck and staring at the button on his collar, having forgotten the ability to speak or move.

When his hooded gaze, framed with long lashes, ducked to meet mine, when he stepped into me, getting impossibly closer as his hands rose to my back to squeeze me—I gasped and recovered movement, turning my head away from him.

His lips hit my jaw just under my ear with the lightest of touches.

I pushed him, pushed against his chest, but I didn't really need to. At the same time, he'd recovered, easing back to clear his throat.

"Maggie…" Damion held my chin.

I refused to face him. "Please, don't...don't do that."

"No, I…Shit," he hissed, wincing and backing off completely. "I'm sorry. I don't know what I'm doing." Damion shook his head, fisting his hair. "I am so sorry—so _fuckin'_ sorry!"

I took that as my chance to get some more distance between us, hoping I could run—not necessarily just out of here, but home, where things made more sense. "I just wanna go home," I whispered, about to beg because I swore I was about to die; my nerves were shot. "I won't tell nobody, just please. Let me go home. Okay?"

"Wait, no." Damion held my biceps, keeping me still. "Maggie, relax and listen to me for a second." He blocked my escape. "I didn't mean to—I'm sorry. I missed, right? I also misread the, uh… We were just standing here, and I…" He stood taller, staring down and towering over me. "I had to…felt I had to kiss you." He pushed my hair away from my shoulder.

"But I'd never force you." Damion sucked his lower lip into his mouth. "I thought I'd take a chance on fate, you know? Kiss you, hoped you liked it, and kissed me back…" He huffed a groan, contemplative as his eyes trailed down to my shoes. "Maybe that's dumb logic to have. I mean, I've never felt as compell—"

"All right. Take care!" I tried to push his arm away "Bye," but then his torso trapped me to the wall faster than lightning. "Damion—" I closed my eyes, frightened "—I'll-I'll scream."

"Under any other circumstances, I'd love to hear it—" there was humor in his tone "—you screamin' because'a me," he sighed, leaning away, and I felt I could breathe again. "But, right now, I need you to calm down._ I_ got some shit to say and _you're_ gonna listen."

* * *

**...o.0...**


	7. Chapter 7

**Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**Beta'd by HollettLA.**

* * *

**Chapter Seven**

**Maggie POV**

As time ticked by, I've started to feel worse about the night I met Damion.

And being in this position proved my most recent thoughts true about Damion Cullen.

_Okay, so being snubbed in disdain was painful. _

But having my blinders off, I could see much, much more. There's a darkness surrounding him, almost as if he's extremely troubled or…shady? It's a gut instinct, and my gut's usually wrong anyway, but this situation might prove it right.

As of recent, he's become eerie and kind of sinister to me; meanwhile, six weeks ago, I wanted to run off into the sunset with him.

"You promise not to run away?"

I wasn't sure if I _could_ promise such a thing.

That's _what_ I do, scurry away like a mouse, no matter how scary, sad, or weird the reason is.

This was a time to be strong, though, stand my ground—knee him in the balls if I had to, like people do in the movies.

Damion moved farther away. "I'm not gonna hurt you…I swear."

"Good." I stared down to my shoes and placed my shaking hands under my armpits, reminding myself to be strong—act like a normal person and not a rodent that had no spine. "Just…say whatever." I almost swallowed my tongue. "No, you better…hurry up before I get mad!" Hoping my threat wasn't taken lightly; I squared my shoulders to look into his mirthful eyes.

"Oh, shit." Damion put his hands up in mock surrender. "I'll definitely hurry it along now—don't want'chu gettin' mad and scary."

Steeling my nerves, I nodded. "That's right, scary." I poked his chest as hard as I could, which…really, really hurt my finger.

"You okay?" He reached for my hand.

"Just get to talkin'!" I shouted, balling my hands into fists and stiffening, becoming genuinely angry. "You said you liked me and then treated me like my body was covered in green scales!" Yelling felt amazing in this moment. "You confused me—"

"Shhh. Jesus. Be quiet." He placed his finger to his mouth.

"—you blatantly ignored me for over a month. A month, and now this? And who the heck are you? You're nothin' like the guy I remember!" I relaxed a little, taking a deep breath. "And this…seriously, what the hell is this? And what the hell's wrong with you?" Failing miserably by the second, I tried to hold on to my boldness.

"Unfortunately, the guy you met that night…I don't know where he is. I was hoping, somehow, you'd help me find him." He reached for my hand again.

"What does that even mean?" I asked, backing into the wall again. He hadn't advanced, but I was afraid he would.

Damion grinned and then his face fell. "Would it be easier to believe that I'm… Actually, I'm Damion's evil twin." He nodded. "My name's Masen and I have Dame locked in a soundproof room in the basement…chained to a radiator. I've had everyone fooled for weeks…everyone."

"That's not even funny," I said. "And I'm young but I'm not stupid." In this moment, I didn't know if he was joking, or…I wasn't sure.

"I don't think you're stupid. Not at all." He looked sad now.

No longer pushy or scary, a sadness filled his eyes. It was plain as day, placed a pit of pity in my stomach, a lump in my throat. "Are you okay?" I asked, barely above a whisper.

He shrugged his shoulders, holding his head. "Gimme a sec to get my words right—I need to explain."

"Look, I dunno what's going on." I glanced out to the street, and in the distance, I saw a very-pregnant blonde walk into Santino's building. That must be his Katie, the mother of his baby. Feeling insignificant, a feeling I'm fairly used to, I looked back to Damion. "If you're in trouble or you need help…" Having no idea how_ I_ could help him, I knew who could. "Santino—"

"Oh, fuck him!" he laughed, suddenly humorous again.

"He loves and cares for you very much—"

"The only person Sonny cares about is Sonny. It'd seriously do you some good to learn that from now." He kicked the opposite wall.

I placed my hand on his forearm. "Don't get upset. Your Dad—"

"My father—that man fuckin' hates me." He found that funny, too.

"I don't believe that." I really didn't, nor did I believe what he'd said about Santino not caring for him. "It's obvious there's something wrong—"

"No…" He took a deep breath. "I'm fine, perfect even…school's going well and I'm making some steady money doin' this and that. I have a beautiful woman to warm my bed who's New Jersey royalty." He'd been counting off his fingers and stopped to meet my eyes. "Eh…you met Amelia. Truthfully, she's more of a guinea brat, but she loves me—and she's a doormat nonetheless, which means I could probably _do whatever_ I wanted on the side, including _you_." He touched my cheek.

"No!" I disagreed.

"—and I might love her," he continued as if I hadn't spoken. "At least, I thought I did." He chuckled, pressing his closed fingers to his eyes, making his glasses rise.

"If you don't love her and you're already planning a life of adultery…" The last twenty minutes were more upsetting than the past month altogether. "I…don't think people aspire to be adulterers." And I also felt too young, too inexperienced to hold this odd conversation. "If there's something wrong, you should talk to someone, anyone you can trust, or—"

"I _am_." He rasped.

"Oh." I folded my arms across my chest.

"No, I do...love Amelia. I fell pretty hard and fast, and I…only just came up for air, started having doubts a few days ago." Damion nodded. "Either way, we'll probably get married. She'll become some dishrag-clutching Betty Crocker, pregnant and in my kitchen but wearing Jimmy Choos. That's what every man wants." Damion stared at the ground. "Again, I'm perfect. I just might be an asshole—plain and simple. Does it sound like there's something wrong?"

I furrowed my brow, knowing one thing to be true. "You don't _sound_ happy."

"Ugh..." He glanced at his watch and then heavenward. "Christ…I've got so much to say to you."

Unsure of what craziness would come out of his mouth next, I gestured he continue. I didn't think myself appropriate for the conversation because I didn't know how…I could ever help him. But if all he needed was someone to listen…? I could definitely do that. If it helped him even in the slightest bit, at least it'd take one trouble away—make him feel lighter.

"This is serious and it's also the _ab-so-lute truth_." He placed his hands on my shoulders. "The night we met, Maggie, I enjoyed myself very much. Too much. I dug your company, you, and you're gorgeous. I don't have 20/20 vision—" he pushed his glasses up "—but I'm not blind. At first, I thought you were at least the legal age to drink."

"I'm sorry for not informing you that I wasn't." Drinking hadn't helped the situation that night, as a lot of aspects of that evening are still fuzzy—I can't make proper sense of them.

Damion smiled. "It's cool. I'm sorry for crossing as many lines as I did." He raked his hand through his hair. "I also can't tell you how many times I've paced outside your house, wondering which window was yours. I wanted to contact you again; you seemed to always be on my mind, but I knew better. I knew you…deserved so much more than I could ever give you. You were perfect, _you still are_, and I would've ruined that...like I ruin everything. You're just—" he touched my chin "—and seeing you with him…?" His voice started to rise. "If you did what you did to get my attention, you really didn't have to do that. You've had it for over a month now. I was…just trying to do the right thing by staying away from you."

"I didn't," I said. "Your brother being my date—Damion, that wasn't even _my_ idea. It wasn't my intention to…get your attention _with Santino_. But I'll admit to…the costume," I mumbled that last part.

"What?" He cupped his ear.

I felt my face flush. "I thought if I looked…sexy, more grown up, you'd see me, realize that I existed, wasn't invisible. You were ignoring me, treating me as though we'd never met before, and that bothered me a lot. But that's because I'd taken the night we met too seriously, and I thought we were friends... And doing what I did with Santino, going to…the hotel with him, that had nothing to do with you either."

Damion nodded. "Oh…okay." He palmed his stomach, an unreadable expression on his face.

While I waited for him to continue, I tried not to look at him. I still felt out of place. I wanted to get back to work, but doing that would be selfish. And I said I'd listen. "Amelia is…she's really pretty, and she loves you." I wanted to say something positive. "She seems nice, too… I didn't get to talk to her a lot, so I'm sorry to sound superficial." I might have been rambling now. "Um, you guys fell in love…what was that like?" I peeked at him, and the side of his mouth pulled into a small smile. "What…_does_ love, falling in love feel like?"

Damion's smile reached his eyes now. "Hmm. I guess…" He furrowed his brow. "It's…the happiest, the most confusing, and possibly the most excruciating feeling in the world…known to man. All of that balled into one giant clusterfuck is what _falling_ in love feels like." He chuckled, almost resembling a boy.

I giggled, smoothing my skirt down, eyes on my shoes.

"The confusion and subsequent pain…that's from self-doubt, I'd say." He glanced at me. "You never know if the other person will return your feelings, and not knowing can be torturous…I guess that's why they call it falling, though. You can either—" he clapped once "—SPLAT! Hit the pavement, or they'll be there to catch you. Being_ in_ love is different. It's lighter and there's no pain, and it's much easier. Every aspect of your life somehow involves the other person because…you…always want them near. Obviously, your life has changed. You went from being single to a pair, and you just share everything. You can't imagine what your life would be like without them. And all you wanna do—you have this overwhelming urge to make them happy. Every touch, every kiss, every smoldering gaze sets you on fire. You're drawn, and you can't get enough, and everything feels good—" He opened and closed his mouth but nothing came out.

I didn't say anything; content to hold my hot cheeks with my cool hands.

"Did I say something to offend you?" he asked. "Something dirty, perhaps?"

I couldn't lift my head. "No."

"Want me to…? Say somethin' dirty?" There was humor in his voice.

"No." I grinned.

"Oh, that means you do." He waved a finger at me.

Giggling, I shook my head no and raised my pointed finger. "I'll—" I burst into guffaws, glad to have caught myself.

Damion was shaking with quiet laughter. "Say it."

I refused, trying like heck to compose myself.

He leaned back against the wall, and he was trying to say something… "Pl-Please." He laughed so hard he snorted.

And I thought my skin was going to melt off my face, my knees bending.

But wicked Damion was back. He was able to control his chuckles and walk out from the dwelling. He'd only gone three feet but cupped his hands around his mouth. "Everybody, this dirty little girl wants to poke me!"

I gasped and ran out after him to slap his back. "What's wrong with you?" I hit him again as he kept laughing, running in a circle on the sidewalk.

Cackling like a hyena, I chased after him but then stopped. Feeling better now, and seeing that he was also smiling—we were acting like jackasses on a busy avenue; no one paid his words any attention—I thought it best I go back to work before I knocked over some old lady.

"Hey…you wanna go to the park?" Damion asked.

I turned to stare at him quizzically, and I didn't expect him to be as close as he was. "I really am working."

He thought that was funny, too. "That place drains more money than it cleans. We both know no one's in there, and no one's gonna fire you."

"I—"

Damion caught up to me, had blocked my path to the salon. "Fort Hamilton Park's just right there, a few blocks away." All the stress that'd seemed to weigh him down earlier had disappeared.

I smiled, truly happy for him. "I'm glad you feel better, but maybe another time? Maybe we could all…hang out?"

He rolled his eyes. "Maybe Sonny'll push me on the swings again."

The mental image of them almost too tall, one pushing the other made me giggle. "I was…thinking more along the lines of including Kylie…maybe Amelia if she was visiting with you. I mean, the park doesn't seem like Santino's thing?" It was hard to ignore how the butterflies ran amok at the sound of his name.

"And you'd know _all about_ Santino's thing…?" His tone was suggestive.

"No…I, um…no." I cringed, thinking back to all my botched attempts at seducing Santino.

_I really wanted that thing. _

_His thing_.

Damion cleared his throat, placing his hands in his pockets. "I'll give you a minute to get your filthy mind in order."

My eyes widened, wondering how he'd known.

Then he laughed at me, pointing an accusatory finger.

Like a schoolyard bully, I wanted to beat him again, but I didn't. I'd been able to laugh at myself, at how silly I'd been acting.

A random thought came to mind, though. "No matter how old you guys are…I think Santino would still push you on the swing…if you asked him, if you needed him." Believing the statement, I hoped to show Damion that he was wrong, that Santino isn't selfish. "And…at the end of the day, I think you'd get on the seesaw with him…so he wouldn't be alone."

"I really did it, didn't I?" Damion asked. "I brought up his name, and now you have a one-track mind."

I shook my head to protest, speechless for a second too long.

Eventually, I just turned for the salon. "See ya!" I waved.

He winked, walking backward and lifting a hand.

I just smiled, hoping Mrs. Cullen…

I just had to face the music. I'd been outside for a half hour, possibly longer. And there are actual street sweepers employed by the city… "The broom!" I remembered, sprinting back and then slowing, seeing as Damion had it.

He was standing in that doorway again, and I wondered if he was going to dance with it. Because he wasn't doing the polite thing of meeting me halfway. "You want it…? My magic stick?" He wiggled his brows.

I actually thought it was fascinating. "How'd you do that?" I tried moving my eyebrows like he did, but all I did was blink a bunch of times.

Damion smirked at me, reaching out the handle to lift my skirt with it.

I smacked the fabric down and waved my fist at him. "I'll tell your mom to come get it, and then she can beat you with it," I laughed. "Bam. In your face!" I left him there holding his stick.

"Oh!" Damion shouted.

I ignored him.

The loud, rapid sound of feet hitting the ground made me peek over my shoulder.

"You got jokes now?" Damion's firm arms accosted me, and I'd only been one door away.

"Stop, I really gotta get back—" I hollered out something unintelligible and started laughing.

Damion was tickling my sides, and then my feet were off the ground. I cleared my throat, moving my hair away from my eyes. "What are you—" I was in another awkward embrace, being dragged away. "Oh, no." We were in that same doorway, hidden from sight. "This is ridiculous."

I was surprised no one was curious; no one had come outside to make sure I wasn't kidnapped. Then again, if Mr. Cullen is in there…he's holding his wife's attention, arguing or canoodling, and Kylie would be doing actual work.

"All joking aside, I'm not finished talking to you. I don't know why my father isn't looking for me—hasn't found me." He checked the time and shook his head. "I'm just seizing the opportunity."

I fixed my headband, knowing my head was a mess in more ways than one. "Talk…I need to get back."

"Okay." He nodded. "You…you said you didn't use Sonny to get back at me."

I groaned, couldn't believe we were back to this. "I didn't."

"Whatever your reasons, you should probably stay away from him now—put the whole thing behind yourself." He blew out a breath. "My brother's no good. Whoever hooked you two up was playing a…_very_ cruel joke."

"Right, because God forbid someone likes me and shows it." I felt the tears pooling in my eyes and it was no use; there was no way to stop them. Today was crazy, my emotions running wild, and I hit my boiling point. Frustrated and exasperated, I hated being trapped by Damion—all attempts at escape had failed—and I didn't know what to do.

For the hundredth time, I wished this was a movie, and my prince—my knight—could somehow sense my distress. He'd save me from the clutches of an evildoer, rescue me, and then we'd make love on his horse, or the backseat of an expensive car.

_I wanted Santino. _

Because…even if everything concerning him was confusing, I felt safe and warm, and I constantly crave his arms, his touch. Being around him made sense—although it doesn't—when the rest of the world I'd always known felt like another planet?

I didn't understand.

I was just me two days ago.

And now…I had no idea.

But I knew Santino had his own, very busy life; he wouldn't be my hero.

"No, don't cry...shit." Damion wiped under my eyes. "You're wonderful, and it really doesn't have anything to do with _you_. My brother's been hurt real bad. He's looking for something right now…anything that might make himself feel better, to make him happy, and he's already _used you_ for that purpose. My words are gonna sound harsh, Maggie, but…you _need_ to stay away from him."

"Just lemme alone," I sobbed into my hands. "_You_ stay away from me!" Resenting his words, angry, I didn't know why I should believe them, or why I should heed his warning.

"You don't like me? Fine. Let me be your guardian angel in disguise." He cleaned more tears away from my cheeks.

I pushed his hand off my face. "I don't even know what you mean."

"You're a senior in high school, you're going to college…" Damion smiled at me. "It's an exciting time…And I don't see you becoming a nun." He rolled his eyes. "It's a little too much, and I don't think you'd be happy, although you should never let go of your faith."

Knowing his family had a grapevine, I wasn't shocked by his words. "I leave in August and I can't wait." There's a good chance I wouldn't be in a situation like this again, which was comforting.

"You're goin' to…?" He quirked a brow.

I used the back of my hand to wipe my nose. "University of Saint Mary."

"Kansas?" he shouted. "You might as well study at the Vatican."

"It's a great school, and its distance from Brooklyn…was very appealing," I whispered.

"I understand," he said. "You have to do what's best for you, Maggie, whatever's gonna make you happy." He nodded. "My first choice was Stanford…clear shot across the country, three thousand miles between my family and myself." Damion chuckled.

"Sorry it didn't work," I mumbled.

"Oh…I was accepted. It just didn't work out. And I should have gone anyway." He shrugged. "But that's another regret _I'll_ live with."

"Can I go now?" I asked, hopeful.

Damion laughed but there was no humor to it. "Right…_I'm_ the bad guy, and you wanna get as far away from _me_ as possible." He touched his chest. "It's absurd…but _I am_ a pretty smart guy. So, know this from now. Take my word for it. If you don't go to Kansas, he'll destroy your life."

Before I could ask, he said, "Your elusive Santino." He was angry again, but then I was, too.

"Well, just so you know…smart guy, the more you say about him, the more it says about you," I nearly shouted. "Makes me think badly about you, not him—"

Damion stepped closer, locking his eyes on to mine. "I don't give a flyin' fuck."

I gritted my teeth, clamping my eyes closed.

"Once he gets his hooks in—and that's even if he decides you're worth his time—I assure you, he'll ruin every aspect, everything you got goin' in your life now…" He started laughing again. "No, I can paint you a picture right now of your brilliant future with Santino." Damion grasped my jaw, made me look at him. "If you stay in Brooklyn come fall, you'll never leave. You'll be pregnant within a year—"

"Stop!" I pushed him off and away from me again.

"And…then you'll be alone with your stretch marks, you and three bratty kids while he's…" Damion trailed off.

"Why are you saying this stuff?"

"I…guess I've seen it happen too many times, and you're the quintessential little trophy." He mock-punched my chin, like he was proud. "You're gorgeous all around, untouched, timid… Oh, can you cook?" he asked, his eyes lighting up. "You and Amelia could swap recipes!" Damion clapped once, resting his chin on his hands.

"I think you…_are_ an asshole." I came to that conclusion.

"Fine. I can accept that." At least that sobered him a little. "You also know nothing about _him_, sweet girl. Nothing." He palmed my cheek, getting very close, looking at me the way he did before...and it all happened so fast.

I ran from him and out of the doorway, and I'd wanted to run all the way home. But Mr. Cullen was standing right there, like he'd been eavesdropping; I almost bumped into him, which made me stop short.

"Again? Are you for real?" he asked his son as he steadied me. "Maybe you need an ass-kickin' right on Fourth Ave for the 'hood to see." He let go of me, going for Damion.

He put his hands up. "It wasn't like that. I didn't hurt her, touch her, or _force her to…_talk to me," Damion explained, sort of lying by omission. "However, it is none of your business."

Mr. Cullen laughed. "Right…I gave you one simple task. Driving me is actually considered an honor but not to you. And drivers stay with the cars, drivers have my back. All of which _you knew_, and now…" He looked positively scary yet restrained, and I was frozen where I stood, slightly in the middle of them. "I receive a phone call about bein' clocked, and my driver is nowhere to be found—none the wiser. If I wasn't also informed about youse two playin' footsie—tag or whatever-the-fuck it was in the street, I would've assumed the worst wit' youse disappearin'—"

He clamped a hand down on Damion's shoulder. "Eyes and ears everywhere, baby boy…and _I'm the least_ of your troubles. Our plans are shot now, but…" He was crazy angry, trying his best to stay calm. "Get in the fuckin' car!" He pointed. "And you…" He stared down at me.

"I'm sorry, sir," I said it right away, hoping he wouldn't yell at me.

"My sons are goin' after you like two dogs fightin' ova a bone. Please…I can see you starting a whole mess of trouble. For my wife's sake—"

Cracking under the pressure, I sobbed into my hands, shaking my head. "I'm not a troublemaker, I swear. This isn't my fault, or maybe it is. I just wanna go home."

He stopped me from scampering off like the mouse I was. "Go inside and wash your face. The _last thing_ you should be crying about is those two knuckleheads." He stared behind me. "What'd Damion do? Tell me."

"Nothing." I rushed out, not knowing what he might have seen or heard already. "After today, I'll never see Santino or Damion again, but…I'd like to be Kylie's friend, if that's okay?" The most heartbreaking thought was losing her friendship. "We can hang at my house." My stomach quivered as I wiped my eyes, and I felt…too many things at once. "She's my best friend."

"Maggie, calm down." Damion placed his hand on my shoulder.

"Knock it off!" his father warned.

"You're making her upset," Damion argued.

"Oh, right." Mr. Cullen smiled. "I'm the bad guy." His words and tone along with his demeanor were familiar; he sounded just like Damion. "Her tears have nothin' to do wit' what I saw?"

"What'd you see?" Damion asked. "You didn't see shit—"

"Her pushing you away, the mad dash, or the terrified look on her face." He walked toward his son. "So help me God, Damion—"

"Tell him what happened," Damion rushed out, speaking to me.

I shook my head, trying my hardest to compose myself. "No-nothing happened."

"You really think I'd do something to hurt her?" Damion asked.

"He didn't," I whispered, and he really hadn't.

Though all of his words and actions—Damion almost kissing me, not once, but twice—left my mind a discombobulated mess. And I couldn't make the connections between, nor make sense, of his previous and most recent behavior. Doing a quick mental inventory of what he'd said, he stayed away from me because he was no good, and I was starting to believe that.

The way he touched me, handling me with force, was threatening, almost menacing in a way.

He's tall, strong—a man.

I'm short, weak—a girl.

I saw us in ways I hadn't before; I couldn't explain it.

_I felt like the child I was while being intimidated by the man he was…?_

Overall, I'd felt completely and utterly powerless, trapped.

His demeanor had changed rapidly and so many times, it gave me whiplash. Damion would go from being hurtful, sincere, to angry, and then…he'd get too close.

I had no idea how to differentiate the lies from the truth.

Apparently, Santino's bad for me, too—and I didn't want to believe that, but I guess it doesn't matter what I think, or how I feel.

NONE of it mattered when I had to stay away from them.

Maybe it'd save me a world of hurt later on? Maybe Damion was correct? Maybe what everyone's been saying is correct…

That I should put what happened behind me.

Santino can't and won't settle down; his life is complicated and he has a baby on the way along with Katie, and everything else I know nothing about.

I also didn't want to create conflict within Kylie's lovely family.

It'd be unfair to everyone involved, including myself.

The small shred of hope I'd had for…my date with Santino _actually happening_ next weekend…was thrown away, forced out of my mind.

Who knows? I bet Mr. Cullen won't even let me be Kylie's friend anymore.

Then I could go back to…existing, reading about experiences I'll never have, studying, volunteering at church, and praying for August to get here as soon as possible, when I'll be leaving for Kansas.

That's been my plan, my dream for months, and my long-term goals hadn't changed in the slightest.

Attending the University of Saint Mary was my escape route. I'd be over a thousand miles away from my parents. I could stay out as late as I want, go where I want, be with whoever I want…

Study whatever I wish.

I have enough experience, have spent a lot of time at Saint Anselm's convent, thus gaining many helpful mentors. Serving God to the best of my ability, I have lived like a nun for the past couple of years—the last few days notwithstanding—so I technically could join a community right out of high school.

When my parents worried about college tuition, they'd preferred it; the archdiocese would send me to school if they saw fit, or I could attend class at one of their universities.

Unsure of what the future held, I wanted my bachelor's degree first—be it in education or healthcare.

If after four more years, and some more life experience, if I still aimed to become a nun, I could join a traditional apostolic community, where I'd be able to apply my degree.

In fact, the night I met Damion, I wasn't coming home from a friend's house…in a manner of speaking.

Having always loved the quiet, serene atmosphere, I snuck into the nave before closing time, and then hid in the church to study, get away from my parents—have some alone time, only to curl up and fall asleep. I had no idea that Sister Victoria found me and had called my parents until I woke up at around midnight panicking. There are a lot of pews because Saint Anselm's is large, so Sister was still polishing the wooden benches. I'd helped her with the task for a little while before she urged me to go to bed, stay at the convent…again.

To get outta that pickle, I pretended to call my dad, asking him to come get me; meanwhile, he already thought I was staying at the rectory.

I'd been able to stargaze, enjoy the mild weather, and talk to the moon until…I was literally knocked off my feet by Damion.

My faith is very important—the one and only constant—and it's my life.

And maybe my life _wasn't_ so bad before…

I have friends in the saints, the apostles, and the angels—basically every biblical figure—since they'd never let me down. With them and their brave, sometimes tragic tales I'd never been lonely. With God's love, with Jesus' love, I'd never felt unloved or unwanted.

No matter my parents, I've always known that I was meant to pledge my obedience and fidelity to the Lord.

For a long time there, I couldn't wait to take my vows…

Then I turned sixteen, my brain got all weird, and I'd started to picture Father Matthew—the newest, youngest priest—reading his sermon in his underwear.

That was the first time I'd ever lied during confession; I couldn't admit that, to Father Matthew no less.

I'd talked myself into thinking the devil was testing me, trying to lead me into temptation, but I did that all on my own, and no amount of prayer has worked just yet.

I'll be sure to redouble my efforts, say the rosary a thousand times, say it until I faint from dehydration…

No Kylie, no job, no stupid boys to occupy my mind, I'd have the extra time.

Meanwhile, in reality, the Cullen men glared at each other for a few beats too long—a staring contest—and Damion backed down first. "Get in the car." His father's tone was soft, not like it'd been minutes prior.

I waited 'til Damion turned before I spoke to Mr. Cullen, and having gained a little composure, my voice was stronger. "I plan to rededicate myself to God, Our Lord and Savior, to repent and get back on track."

"You're still hell-bent on joinin' the nunnery?" Damion shouted.

Mr. Cullen made a gesture under his chin; his stare meant business.

"It's a total waste!" Damion exclaimed. "She could serve God without marrying _Him_."

"Enough, Dame!" his father warned.

"Maggie…" I wouldn't turn to Damion. "Maggie, look at me." I shook my head no, keeping my eyes on the pavement. "Oh, fuck it. Fuck it all to hell!" Damion continued.

I winced when I heard the car door slam. "Um, God forgive me for causing a rift between your family," I told Mr. Cullen. "That was never my intention. Thank you for your generosity, hospitality, and the work experience." Knowing I had to leave, had to say goodbye, I started crying again. "If, if you could just tell Kylie—"

"You can keep your job, Maggie," he said, lifting my chin with his finger. "You can continue being Kylie's friend. _That shit goes without sayin'_… I don't know how good Kylie's been for you, but you've been a great friend, and a great influence on my daughter. She's also much happier these days."

Surprised, I stared at him, hadn't expected him to say that at all.

"Can you stop cryin'?" He peered up and down the block. "My wife'll kick my ass." His stare lingered behind me again.

I giggled through my tears. "I'm sorry."

Mr. Cullen stepped around me, and I turned to see a middle-aged man in a black suit. "Everything all right, Skip?" the gentleman asked.

"Yeah, I'm leavin' in ten minutes, and then you can hop back on my dick—you like it so much." Mr. Cullen made another hand gesture that I didn't understand.

"It's not every day you make little girls cry." The man looked to me. "Hon, you okay?"

I nodded but Mr. Cullen answered for me, "She's fine."

"He didn't make me cry," I blurted, apprehensive and confused. I had no idea who this guy was, but I didn't want him to think badly of Mr. Cullen.

The man nodded. "What's your name, sweetheart?"

"Nunya." Mr. Cullen stepped closer to him. "As in nun-ya fuckin' business, so get back ya car and wait for me, like the good bitch you are."

My eyes widened; I wasn't sure what to do with myself, wondering if I should stay here or go back inside.

The man smiled, backing down as Damion had. "I'd like to eat dinner before six, so if you could just…get to where you gotta go." He turned, walking back to a black sedan that'd been parked a few lengths away from the SUV.

Mr. Cullen flipped both middle fingers at him, laughing hysterically before whipping back to me. "You ever see that guy again, you don't talk to him. He's a very dangerous man."

"Oh." That put another knot in my belly. "Thanks for…not telling him my name, I guess . . . and I should really get back in if I wanna keep my job." I jerked my thumb.

The sidewalk that didn't need to be cleared had been swept for over a half hour already, while customers arrived and departed Bay Ridge Tan.

"_Aspetta_." He put a hand up. "That means wait."

I clasped my hands together in front of myself, nodding, having figured that out.

"Look, I don't sugarcoat things for my kids… I tell it like it is. I figure, why not level with my kids, treat them like they ain't stupid. Right?" he asked, quirking a brow.

I agreed, my stare falling to my shoes.

"Look up here." He pointed to his eyes. "I'm talking to you." Mr. Cullen now had the same authoritative tone my own father uses.

For some reason, that was comforting. "Yes, sir…my apologies." I stood straight, looking up to him.

"Now…I'mma talk and I'm gonna say some things, and ask you a few questions. And even if you're a kid who's had too much church, I'll be blunt, direct, and straight to the fuckin' point. Understand?" His tone had remained on the softer side, letting me know his hostile words weren't threatening.

"Yes, sir."

Mr. Cullen peered over at his son. "I'm sure Dame was up to no good, and he upset you."

"No—"

He sucked his teeth. "Don't lie to me. I'm being truthful—" he touched his chest "—and I expect you to extend the same courtesy."

I didn't say anything, as agreeing would also be agreeing to the stuff regarding Damion.

"Did he touch you…in an ill-manner that you did not approve of?" He looked between his car and me.

"No, absolutely not, sir. Absolutely not." I hoped he believed me.

Mr. Cullen hummed, glancing across the street to Santino's apartment. "If you, however, _welcomed_ any advances—"

"No!" I shouted, appalled. "Good God, no, sir." I shook my head, vehement. "No way. We were just talking."

"People attach too much importance to being friendly," he said. "Next time one of those knuckleheads bothers you, pick up anything you can find—just whack 'em one and aim for the head." He smiled.

"Um…" I grinned, wanting to giggle, but I shrugged. "All right, I guess."

"I'll be having a very candid chat with Damion…_Santino as well_. They won't hassle you _ever_ again."

I gave him a solemn nod, accepting that, feeling a twinge of sadness at how final it felt—the final nail in the coffin of whatever I had with Santino. And I felt badly that Mr. Cullen was placing all this blame on Damion, although he did…pester and scare me.

"Damion, um, he…" I started, unsure.

"Damion?" Mr. Cullen questioned, tone laced with shock. "What about _him_? I thought you'd be more concerned with Sonny." His assessment was correct, but my next words weren't about _me_ at all.

"Damion's troubled." I thought there might be hope there, maybe they could have a heart-to-heart, and he could help his son or something; I didn't know.

"We're all fairly fuckin' disturbed—thought you woulda picked up on that by now," he laughed.

I didn't think his words funny. "I think you and your family are wonderful, sir...very warm and welcoming." Santino's smile flashed in my mind, and I felt emotional again.

"I was kiddin'." He nudged his elbow to my bicep, and then he checked his watch. "Listen, whatever happened this afternoon—you talkin' to Dame—no one's gotta know about it. You seem like a very private person, Maggie. I admire that. I'm private, too."

"I…am private, sir."

"Good…and so I can avoid World War Three at my house, you'll keep it to yourself?" he asked.

"Yes. I'll keep it to myself," I agreed.

"You been out hea' a while. Say you was sweepin' old man Giacomo's storefront, too, and then you did inside the store."

"Okay," I whispered.

"And like you_ just_ said—" he pointed at me "—stay away from _them_, and don't talk to them, don't contact _either_ of my sons."

"Of course." I felt my lip quiver and bit it down, wondering what was horrible about seeing Santino again, why Mr. Cullen wanted me to stay away from him. I understood keeping my distance from Damion.

People might get the wrong idea if I was seen talking to him _but_ spending time with Santino. Damion was already upset with Santino, although I wasn't 100% sure it pertained to me. It could also hurt Damion's relationship with Amelia. And after that awkward confrontation, and finally getting my chance to ask Damion some questions…I realized that some crap is better left unknown.

"No matter what you and Sonny did, no matter how brief the, uh, encounter might have been…which—" he showed me his palms "—Sonny had no business bein' on that roof alone wit'chu. He's a grown-ass man and you're a baby. That ain't right. I know youse had some drinks, was chillin'. I know he didn't disrespect you, but it _shouldn't_ have happened and it _can't_ happen again. Do you understand? It's inappropriate."

I agreed without sound, not trusting my voice.

"Again, no matter the circumstances, I know Sonny'll feel the need to avenge your tears. If Sonny finds out Damion upset you or stepped outta line, he'll hurt Damion…and I can't have that. I'd also like to have all my kids home for the holidays."

"I'll stay away—won't say anything," I promised. "Your family's really nice." My tears started again. "I wouldn't mess with that."

He patted my bicep. "You're _far _too young for them, Maggie."

"I'm eighteen," I mumbled.

"Excuse me?" He stared at me. "Worse comes to worst, what if one clipped the other?"

"Clipped?" I didn't understand.

"Worse than that—" he spoke with his hands "—you mess wit' them both and you get knocked up." He slapped his hands together. "Then, who's the baby's daddy…?" Mr. Cullen waited for an answer. "You gettin' passed between the both of them, like some Cullen family heirloom, it'll be difficult to pull off an immaculate conception. What would you tell your parents?"

I blinked, my jaw almost hitting the ground.

"Oh, and stay away from _my_ brother, please. You're walkin' to school and you see Carlisle Cullen, you cross the fuckin' street." He nodded, pursing his lips.

"I…" My mouth refused to work.

"What the…_fuck_ are you talkin' about?" Damion hollered from the car. "You listenin' to yaself?" He left the SUV, slamming the door closed again. "You just called her a ho. What's wrong with you?"

"In a minute, you're gonna_ know_ what's wrong wit'_chu_ if you don't get back in that fuckin' car." Mr. Cullen's voice was low and menacing. "_Capisce_?"

"Maggie, go inside." Damion gave me a gentle nudge on my shoulder.

"Stay right where you are." Mr. Cullen wasn't looking at me, but I knew he was talking to me. "The difference between a hooker and a ho ain't nothin' but a fee. And your brother has expensive tastes… He's persuasive and young girls are _easily_ persuadable," he explained, still staring at his son. "These are life lessons—facts of life." Mr. Cullen gestured to me. "I'm not wrong."

"He's right," Damion told me. "Remember…the devil was very handsome, too."

Angry, irrationally, or possibly rightfully so, I didn't say a word to either of them.

But I wanted to.

"I'm trying to avoid a potential shit storm," Mr. Cullen continued. "And she's not some carnival ride—you get a turn, Sonny gets a turn, and it's your turn again?"

"I was only with Santino," I started, unable to hold back, "And he didn't give me money or anything. Nothing."

I wiped under my eyes. "I wanted him to have me. I wanted it more than, than I've ever wanted anything. We were under the moon and the stars, and nobody understands… He didn't promise me anything. He told me his life was complicated, and he couldn't agree to a commitment. But that was fine with me…because…_I_ wanted him." I deflated, dropping my shoulders, but it felt great to explain.

"I've never even kissed Damion, and I won't. I don't want him—not in that way." I was about to hide, sob into my hands but reined it in. "What's wrong with you people…?" I looked between the both of them, and they weren't even looking at me, possibly not paying attention to me.

"It's not you…not you I was worried about, Maggie." Mr. Cullen cleared his throat. "They're men, and I'll tell you what I told my daughter. Men are nasty. They're disgusting. I know…_because_ I'm a man." He shrugged. "And if they both wanna piece of you…hey, they might not relent, but _you_ will...leaving one of them fucked in the head."

"This is ridiculous," Damion laughed. "Are you serious?" He was staring down to me. "If you didn't use him to get back at me, you definitely used him _just_ to lose your virginity, right?"

I groaned, palming my own cheeks. "I should get a T-shirt made."

"Good one." Mr. Cullen put his fist out for a pound.

Weakly, I bumped my knuckles to his, answering Damion's question, "Santino is wonderful, very kind and handsome. I didn't use him...for any purpose. It kinda just happened, but I wanted it to happen. It was awesome—I—I mean—we—he was, and I—"

"Just stop." Mr. Cullen patted my head. "You might hurt yourself."

"That's a bunch'a bullshit, but you'll realize soon… You'll learn. You know nothing—_absolutely nothing_, about Sonny's life. Maybe he told you about a few complications, but I know he didn't—"

"Oh!" Mr. Cullen exclaimed so loudly, I jumped.

"Yeah, save your breath. I'm goin'…" Damion walked back to the SUV.

His dad waved a hand. "They'll stay away from you. I'll make sure. You should be dating boys your own age, like from your school. They're probably on the same wavelength as you._ Capisce_?"

I nodded.

"Boys are overrated, too, Mags." He pursed his lips. "You have years before you gotta grow up, you know? Try to be a kid for as long as you can. Because being an adult…it's not all it's cracked up to be."

"Oh, not the kid speech!" Kylie appeared behind him. "Stop trying to corrupt my friend."

"Stop…feeding your friend to the fuckin' wolves. Did I not teach you right?" Mr. Cullen hollered back.

"Dad's right!" Damion shouted from the SUV.

"You said plenty—that's enough outta you!" Mr. Cullen warned. "And you two, get inside—work." He waved us away.

Now that most them were outside, I wanted to go in anyway. Kylie entered first, and I was on her heels, happy for the reprieve.

But my friend was crying, which was unexpected. "Mom had a phone call, but I'd been eavesdropping. Don't listen to them. It bothers me they have no faith in Sonny. He's the best big brother, the bestest friend, and a really awesome guy. I knew he wouldn't hurt you. Please, don't think I could ever do that to you. I'd never feed you to a wolf."

"I know," I said, believing her.

"What happened was crazy. I didn't expect that to happen, but it did… Do you see it as a bad thing?" she whispered.

"Not at all." I was honest. "The rest of it's confusing, and today has been—" I didn't have the strength to explain.

"Why didn't anyone tell me Dame was here?" Mrs. Cullen stared behind us, to the car pulling away from the curb. "I didn't see him or hear him." They must not have heard a whole lot. "Why's he with Daddy on a weekday?" She glanced at Kylie.

"I dunno… They're not the most likely of pairs, but does Dame need a reason?" Kylie scrunched her nose. "It's Daddy."

Her mother looked out that window for a long time while we just stood there—and there were no customers at the moment; there wouldn't be another influx of patrons until later, when more people are off from work.

"She okay?" I gestured to Mrs. Cullen.

Kylie ushered me toward the back. "I'm sure she's fine. I'll try to get the scoop later. But, tell me…where'd you go? I was talking to my parents… I didn't even see Dame either until two minutes ago. Did you go somewhere with him?"

"No." I held my stomach. "I was sweeping…did next door's sidewalk, too." I hated lying to Kylie, but I had to.

"Was Dame talkin' smack? 'Cause he's just hatin'. Don't let him confuse you."

"He's not," I said. "Well, not really—"

Her jaw dropped. "As kinky as it might be, you can't be some yo-yo between them."

"No!" I shouted. "He said some things—he said I knew nothing about Santino's life, and that he'd destroy mine."

"Well…the truths to some secrets are earned. A level of trust has to be established before…truly knowing someone." Kylie munched on her lip, obviously uneasy. Actually, she looked as though she might gnaw it off. "You…you won't care when you find out." She grabbed my hand. "I promise, you won't."

My belly filled with dread. "Kylie, you have to tell me." I'd confessed every secret I had to her already. "You have to."

"It's not mine to tell," she whispered.

"Since when is something not your business?" I asked.

"He doesn't have ex-wives and love-children stashed away." She rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, but…what else could be so secretive?" I wanted to pull my hair out. "I have all of Santino's numbers—I should just ask him."

"You got the digits to the bat phone?" she giggled. "That's fucking awesome, but don't ask him. He'll just get moody and quiet 'cause he hates to talk about it." She nodded.

I waved a hand, hoping she'd continue.

"Ugh…All right." She poked her head into the hall. "A long, long time ago—back when I was a baby—Sonny was in an accident. He was hurt real bad, and he doesn't like to talk about it."

"What…? That's tragically horrible but it's not—"

"Because Damion was lying and telling you about Sonny's past…He doesn't really have any secrets." She nodded, staring away from me. "Damion was...trying to mess with you. Sonny getting hurt is all I can think of. He was in bad shape for a while, after getting shot and all."

"He was shot?" I almost shouted. "By who?"

Kylie acted dismissive again. "That was a long time ago. And it was gang crap or something. A stray bullet...I dunno. It could be considered a secret. Who would wanna think about it?"

I could agree there.

"Bottom line, Dame lied, trying to screw with your head… I could really take a shit in his cornflakes." She was angry. "What kinda crap is that to say to you? I should tell my mom. We should just tell my mom everything. She'll know what to do."

"Don't." I wanted to forget my conversation with Damion, if I could. "That's why I wanted you to tell me, so I could forget it ever happened."

Kylie squealed. "You and Sonny!"

I disagreed, remembering my promise to her dad. "Staying away is the right thing to do. I don't wanna develop real feelings for Santino, or worse—" I cringed at the thought, scared to death of the concept alone, falling in love. "We're friends. That's it, and we'll stay friends…but away from each other."

Kylie snorted. "How long until _his friendly cock_ falls into _your very amicable va-jay-jay?_"

I laughed. "Oh my gosh, shut up."

She cackled, leaving the break room. "Made ya blush!"

When we got back to the front, there were a few people waiting for beds. Kylie and I didn't get the chance to gossip or goof around since Mrs. Cullen was practically cracking her whip. We kept busy while customers came and went. After about an hour, the evening rush was nearly concluded. Then, of course, we found ourselves back in the break room.

"Only two hours left." Kylie sipped her water.

I hummed, trying to stay upbeat, my thoughts constantly going back to Santino.

"What's wrong?" Kylie asked.

I smiled at my friend, albeit sadly. "Nothing. I'm thinking too much, like always."

She puffed her cheeks, nodding. "About Sonny?"

I opened my mouth deny it, but it was no use. "Yes."

Kylie's face lit up. "Don't think too much. I don't know what Dame really told you. You gave me a good idea, but don't let him get to you."

"Right."

Silence fell upon us for a few seconds too long, which is unlike us. And I continued to stare at Kylie, hoping she'd have a solution to my problem.

"I can't think about him," I whispered. "There's no point."

She placed her arm over my shoulders. "Not thinking about him is easier said than done. And why do you have to stay away from him?"

"Because I told your father I would..."

She scoffed, shaking her head. "You're not _his_ kid; he's not God...He's no one to you," she giggled. "There's no harm in you hanging with Sonny. My father is a miserable old man, and I don't know why that is."

"It's more than that." I didn't even know how to elaborate. "Your father said...it's inappropriate, and I can see why." I cringed, stiffening. "And I'm thinking too much about it anyway," I laughed, bitterly. "And I'm disappointed over nothing. Santino said we'd go get sushi next weekend. Who knows if he'll keep the date? I might be saving myself from being hurt if I just stay away."

"No pain, no gain...Nothing ventured, nothing gained. And those are the words of my father," Kylie giggled. "He'd say those things whenever I was afraid of something. You can't fear the unknown. You don't know what's going to happen, so don't give up without even seeing it through, or even seeing it halfway. I say...fuck it. Go for it, Maggie. Stay away from my brother because _you_ want to, because _you_ don't like him." She poked my chest. "Not because Damion and my father are sticking their beaks in. Go for yours."

I just nodded. "We should get back to work."

Kylie sighed, making to leave the room, and I followed.

But then she turned to bump into me, nearly shoving me into the table. "Oh my God!" Kylie shouted through a whisper, jumping up and down.

"What?" I asked. If she wasn't so excited, I'd be frightened. "What's—"

Kylie started to dance and hump the air. "Go Maggie. It's your birthday, have a party. GO! GO! GO!" She crunked, getting low.

I laughed, watching her.

Mrs. Cullen entered the room, unfazed by her daughter's behavior. "Daddy had to cancel his plans… I'm meeting your father for dinner. We're going out." She grabbed her stuff from the closet.

Kylie gasped but kept her tone hushed. "You meddled! You—and Daddy told you not to, and _you_ did!"

"No, I didn't. I asked your brother the other day to come keep you company—help you close." She shrugged. "He's gotta take a look at the books anyway. Daddy was gonna send Uncle Aro to close with you, and I agreed… At first, I said I'd call him, but I must've dialed Uncle Carlisle's cell by mistake." Mrs. Cullen pulled her coat on. "Doesn't matter. You'll be safe and looked after, and Carlisle will bring you home later."

"You keep the books." Kylie pointed to her. "Uncle Aro is Katie's dad and Uncle Carlisle doesn't care about…anything!" She gasped again, gesturing to her mother. "And you're gonna tame Dad wit' poon—he won't even care to ask!" She started clapping. "Bravo, Momma!"

"Ask, what?" I stared between them, lost.

"I goofed…trying to consolidate a few bills," her mother replied.

"You don't consolidate crap!" Kylie laughed.

"And that's why my eldest, who's good with numbers, is here to take a look." Her eyes darted to mine but went back to Kylie just as fast.

"No, you just set up the chess board, and let the pieces do…what they think they want until you move them—" Kylie was going apeshit. "That doesn't make sense but it does in here." She pointed to her temple.

Mrs. Cullen smiled down to her daughter. "He'll either be here or across the street—" she kissed Kylie's hair "—can be here at a moment's notice should you need him. Get a pizza for dinner."

Kylie's eyes searched mine as her mother left. "Tell Sonny you want lobster—"

I shook my head to protest.

"Come on! My boyfriend's all the way in Texas, and…he can barely afford to take me to Red Lobster, let alone get me lobster." She frowned.

"I thought Giovanni's dad owned seafood restaurants?" I asked.

"No, they're Italian joints." She gagged on her finger. "How much pasta can one person eat all her life, Maggie?" Kylie pouted. "Sonny will totally send someone to go get it. He has minions, but if _I_ ask…?" Kylie pointed to herself. "I just got my period and I'm so craving lobster—the butter, maybe some roasted potatoes? Corn on the cob?" She licked her lips, her eyes brightening. "And…the boy knows his wine, too. He'll probably get a nice, _expensive_ bottle of Chardonnay."

I giggled. "You can ask him…I've…I don't remember ever having lobster before."

"Ha! You're gonna have some tonight, girlfriend." She reached to unbutton my shirt.

"Stop it." I slapped her hand away.

"Oh, cool your jets, Mother Teresa. Just one or two. You gotta work for it…a little," she snickered. "I'm not saying ho-cleavage-city, but a hint of boobage?"

I looked down, feeling my top too loose around the collar.

"Besides, he had _his own feast_ last night…and I bet he saw you naked a bunch of times. Tee-hee," she giggled. "And roll this up." She started fiddling with my skirt. "You gotta be the only Catholic schoolgirl who doesn't hike the kilt when class is over." She appraised me. "See…? Just like on Halloween, you have very nice legs."

My face flushed, thinking of Santino seeing me naked…and how many times.

And I saw him.

And _his_ glorious body.

And now...he's here?

The realization hit me like a wrecking ball, and my stomach tied in knots.

"Now, when you get out there," she whispered "sit on the stool. Not the one by the water cooler, the one on the outside so he'll see you. And don't be shy. You're a cool, foxy, confident, and sexy lady. Keep your head up and play with your hair…Not a lot but some."

"I puked up my bagel before." And my emotions had been all over the place since. I was scared I'd get sick or fall into his arms to cry, relieved by his presence. "My God, what if I gotta vomit again?"

"I have gum in my purse." She went for the closet, digging into her handbag. "Chew but not like a cow."

"You're making me nervous." I shoved the Trident into my mouth, butterflies joining the knots in my stomach. "He's really here?" I had to make sure.

Kylie made an odd noise; she sounded like a dolphin. "He is."

"Do they all come here every day?" I knew Mr. Cullen usually dropped by whenever his wife was here, but that's it. Otherwise, before Halloween, I'd only seen Kylie's brothers in passing—Damion more than Santino, actually.

"Often enough so it's not odd, I guess. No, Dame hardly ever comes by, but Sonny lives across the street." She squeezed my hands. "He just hasn't been by recently, trying to placate that drama queen. It's really sad 'cause she's an awesome person, really freakin' nice. I'd just never be her boyfriend or husband. You know?"

I felt bad because I tried to block out everything she'd said regarding Katie.

In this moment, standing here with Kylie, I was excited and I couldn't believe Santino was here.

But I'd just made that promise to their father, promising I'd stay away.

"My mom totally meddled. She's always poking her nose where it don't belong, but we love her anyway. 'Cause _her intentions_ are always good, and she's got good intuition." Kylie sounded scripted. "That's what she tells me, and she's right…most of the time."

"What if she didn't?" I asked. "What if—"

"I know my mom's lie-face. Sometimes she's really good at hiding her dishonesty—a real poker face. But, just now, she gave me this sparkly-eyed look. Trust me." She squeezed my biceps. "And Sonny's always gotta be the big, stupid hero. I mean, he cares, would drop whatever in a heartbeat to look out for you and me."

"I think that applies more to you," I said.

"Not only to me. I don't think."

"Ladies, youse gotta customer!" Santino shouted, and he sounded far enough away.

I let out a large breath.

"Go!" Kylie forced me out of the room but she didn't need to.

The sight of Santino in his suit, the same navy blue one with the stripes from this morning—I had to concentrate to walk in a straight line. He hadn't looked at me; I hadn't felt his eyes. He focused on his cell phone, taking a seat on the lobby bench.

Santino leaned back, nonchalant with his long legs relaxed, stretching far; he was the picture of cool, calm, and collected.

_Why couldn't I be like that?_

Kylie decided to take the customer back to a bed, and I stared at the stools—hoping I wouldn't hop and lose my balance, silently praying that I'd be graceful for once in my life.

Luckily, I made it without falling, but I hadn't realized how short my skirt would be with me sitting down. Crossing my legs didn't really help the situation either.

When Kylie came back to the front, she studied Santino and me closely. "What's going on?" she asked.

I tried my best to act blasé, and Santino was still busy with his phone.

"You gotta new one?" She walked toward him to pick up the orange AT&T bag.

"Something like that… I'm trying to set up the contacts," he replied.

Kylie nodded, making a silent hand gesture, an indication I should go talk to him.

When another customer came in, Kylie insisted I handle it, which was a relief. I escorted the gentleman down the hall, was setting his tan-time on the control panel when I heard, "You can't say hi?"

Santino was behind me; I felt his breath on my ear, which made me tingle all over, made me shudder, and I hoped he didn't notice.

Smiling, I paused with my back to him, and then I turned to see his handsome face. "Hi," I said.

"What's with the legs? You tryin'a kill me?" His hand descended low, his fingers caressing my thigh. "I got you something."

Overwhelmed by him, by everything, I didn't reply.

"I think you'll love it." He handed me an envelope, a greeting card. "You sneak into the bathroom to read it, and I'll work on getting us some dinner." He leaned in to kiss me, and I held my breath, waiting. "And we'll be talking about the shit you said earlier." He smirked, staring at my lips. "Trust, baby…I'm no tease." His hand snaked up my skirt to palm my ass, pull my body flush against his, where I felt his obvious arousal.

"Do it," I whispered, wishing he'd take me right now, against the wall, over on the counter—it didn't matter.

"Hey," Kylie came toward us "—knowing the dirty deets is fine, but don't be…all smutty up in here. My place of business." She went back to the front.

"Did you hear that?" Santino smiled. "Don't be smutty, Maggie. I'm tryin'a behave."

"You make me smutty," I admitted, my chest heaving, my head a little dizzy.

"Ditto, baby." His lips were chaste and yet forceful against mine, and we were moving. He'd turned us around. "You might think the card silly, but it reminded me of you." Santino walked me backward, and I was completely under his spell. His eyes were hypnotic and intense, and he stared intently.

And then I realized I was in the bathroom. "I bet the card is lovely—"

Santino kicked the door closed with his foot, gathering me into his arms again. This time, he kissed me deep, his mouth unrelenting, and I practically crawled up his body—my skin on fire.

"Sorry." He placed a few soft smooches as he let me go.

"No!" I latched on, using every ounce of strength I had to get more of that mouth.

Santino groaned, lifting me up by my ass to sit me on the sink. My legs wrapped around his torso—our tongues were a tangled mess, and I tried to push his jacket away from his shoulders. I needed to feel his skin against mine.

He pulled my hair, exposed my neck to bite me, and I reveled in the sensation: the pleasure along with the exquisite pain.

"Fuck me," I pleaded in a breathy whisper. "Please."

After tonight, there's a chance I'll never see him again.

Only an hour and a half had passed since Mr. Cullen left the salon.

No more than ninety minutes—_which is hardly the length of a decent movie_—had gone by, and I'd already broken my promise to Kylie's dad. God knows what will happen when _Santino_ finally speaks to him.

Mr. Cullen spoke with such finality; his word was law as their patriarch. Damion obeyed every command and every demand, like Kylie who's just as compliant. Surely Santino wasn't any different from his siblings.

I bet he respects his father the same way Kylie and Damion do, if not more. Santino told me his father was his best friend.

If _I_ listened to Mr. Cullen about going on with my life—without Santino—but with the plans I'd already made, I'd be taking a vow of chastity in the near future.

No.

No matter the repercussions.

No matter what Mr. Cullen said.

And despite my future plans, including the plight of celibacy . . .

I needed Santino.

Now.

In this moment, I had no self-restraint, and my virtue was gone.

Why should I refuse myself this opportunity?

Why deny my chance to be with Santino?

_Because other people have a problem with it…?_

That didn't make any sense.

I want him very badly.

_Unless there's a banana in his pocket, he wants me, too!_

"Please…" I started to unbutton his shirt. "Show me you're not a tease." I pulled his undershirt down to kiss his chest, my fingers weaving into his hair. "Take me, enjoy me…I'm all yours." I didn't know what I was saying anymore, desperate and practically clawing at him.

"That's right. Mine." Santino stepped back, letting out a deep groan as he undid his pants rapidly, his hands fumbling with his belt.

Now, he was too far away, and I pulled him to me by his shirt, my legs finding their home around his waist.

"Wait." He leaned his forehead to mine, panting, out of breath.

"No, don't stop. Please," I begged, continuing to pop the buttons on his shirt.

"I don't, uh, fuck…What am I doin'? Maggie—" he clamped his eyes shut, stiffening "—I don't have a condom." He cringed, slamming his hand against the wall beside me.

That confused me; we'd just gone to the store for a whole box. "But you just bought a whole—"

He chuckled. "You think_ I_ used _twelve_ rubbers during the—" he glanced at his watch "—the thirteen hours we've been apart?" Santino was still catching his breath but laughing. "I'm good, but I ain't _that_ good."

My shoulders slumped while I tried to ignore that delicious ache between my thighs. Disappointment set in quickly, and I racked my brain.

_I needed a solution for this recent, and very unfortunate, development. _

Santino frowned, sadness was written all over his face as he rested the back of his hand to my cheek. He was likely trying to brush my blush away. "God, what the fuck has my family been sayin' to you?" he asked. "They think they know me, but, baby, they have no idea. What happens in my personal life…stays personal, unless someone opens their big mouth, and then…they just exaggerate."

Extremely disheartened, I could cry.

Crestfallen but not deaf, I heard his words. I was still listening to what he'd been saying, and while his family had said a great many things about him, I wouldn't dream of repeating them.

Nevertheless, I was more upset about not having a condom.

Before I could protest, tell him why I was dismayed, he continued, "Hey—" Santino held my jaw, searching my eyes "—I swear. All twelve are in the sealed box back at the hotel. I haven't used any of them."

I held back a whine, a whimper—sure I'd sound like a petulant child. "What good do the condoms do anyone there? No one's at the hotel." _Okay, so maybe I still managed to sound bitchy._

But I asked the only logical question I could pose.

"Huh…?" Judging by his bemused expression, Santino was taken aback by my inquiry...or my gripes, my bellyaching about our lack of prophylactics.

_It was my fault for confusing him. _

There he was, thinking I'd deem him a man-whore based on what his family said…and my only qualm, what I worried most about was our _no glove, no love_ status.

"Crap." I palmed my forehead, finally noticing the pain from the faucet sticking into my ass. "Kylie might have one in her purse!" I clapped twice.

Santino disagreed. "She gives me a rubber, and I gotta buy her a Lexus…" He smiled, stepping even closer. "Maggie, baby, I'd buy her a Porsche if I had to." He trailed his nose along my cheek. "But, we should—"

"Go next door. It's a convenience store. They'll have condoms." I'd have to wait a few minutes, but it was doable.

"Not here." He looked around, grimacing and fixing his pants. "I want you in a bed…so I can take my time." He leaned forward once more, kissing me deeply, passionately. There was longing and need in the heady lip-lock.

I followed his lips, never wanting to break away as I eased off the sink.

Unfortunately, he backed away, panting for air. "Your kisses'll be the death of me."

"Whatta way to go." I rose to my toes.

Before I could kiss him, he paused to search my eyes. "Will you let me make it special? Let me take my time, go slow…" His hands roamed up and down my back. "God, baby…you have no idea how much I want you." His seductive tone, his deep, raspy voice, his words—they threatened to make me melt into a puddle of goo.

"I-I can imagine." I gulped; I wanted him just as badly. "Santino—" I sighed, staring up to his handsome face. His eyes were wrenching me closer, or was it his lips calling me forward?

I wasn't sure, but I nearly got lost in his beauty. "It _will_ be special, no matter the location, because I'd be with you." I wish he'd believe that. "With _you_, Santino."

I also wished I could stop saying his name, his sexy as sin name.

No, I didn't want to stop saying his name.

_Santino. _

I wanted to shout it.

_Santino!_

I wanted to sing it.

_Santino…_

I wanted to scream it while he fucked me!

_Oh, God…Santino! _

He smiled, closing his eyes. "You got me goin' crazy ova hea'. I thought about'chu all day. All _fuckin'_ day." He towered over me, advancing, until my back hit the sink, and I pulled him impossibly closer.

"We're not…we're not doin' _that_ in here." He backed off completely, reaching for the envelope that'd fallen to the floor. "Not in here." He pushed the card into my chest.

Words failed me.

I was overheated.

I was light-headed.

I was on fire _and_ dying...

_Didn't he notice?_

When Santino went for the door, I realized he was now chewing _my_ gum. "Lemme know." He pointed to the card.

"Wait!" I rushed out.

Santino paused to stare at me.

"Read it with me…?" Nervous as to what it might say, I wanted him to stay. Well, I was just scared it might be a formal way of breaking this off—whatever the past two days have been.

Santino grasped the doorknob, a new seriousness to his face. "No…read it alone. _You_ gotta think and let _me_ know." The side of his mouth pulled up. "It's nothing bad, baby." His tone was softer as were his eyes, a sweetness to his demeanor. "Okay?"

I couldn't help but smile at that face, at that man—Santino. "Okay."

As soon as he was gone, I tore open the envelope—surprised to see something had fallen out. After picking it up, I realized it was an iron-on, wild cherry patch.

I giggled madly, knowing this was the most special of gifts he could have given me.

All of the expensive clothes, hotels, and restaurants, they didn't compare to the silly patch that I adored.

Looking at the card made me giddy, too. It was a thank you card with that big-eyed cat—Puss in Boots—on the cover, and what was written inside surprised me even more. His words weren't poetic at all; they'd posed a question.

He wanted me to go back to the hotel with him tonight. Santino had gone on to explain how we'd cover our asses—his plan foolproof. We'd include Kylie, who'd run interference. My father will think I'm staying with the Cullens, and I'll bring uniforms so I won't be late for school.

Santino would drive me back and forth tomorrow.

And I know my father loves the quiet, is enjoying the house while Mom, Mary-Jo, and I aren't there. He's grateful for the Cullens' hospitality.

Essentially, there was no reason not to join him.

But his dad…and what if we did get caught?

_Oh God. _

That'd be a million times worse than everything that'd happened today.

Hoping my cold hands would cool my hot cheeks; I leaned against the door.

I didn't know what to do.

And then I realized this was why Santino had left me with my thoughts.

He didn't want to pressure me.

If he'd just asked, if he'd been in here when I'd read the card, I would have agreed without a second thought.

_It's just one night. _

It's tonight.

That's it.

One more night wasn't going to make a big difference.

We'd get away with it again. I just had to be at school on time, and Kylie had to call Santino with any new developments.

When I left the bathroom, I tried not to smile and failed miserably. But I didn't get the chance to be a hormone-crazed, happy lunatic.

Santino wasn't here, wasn't in the lobby.

Before I felt the panic crawl up my neck, I turned to my friend. "Hey." I eased onto the stool.

"You have smut-face," Kylie teased. "And you're a complete mess." She started to brush my hair back with her fingers. "Didn't you look in the mirror?"

"I just…" I wanted to run and tell Santino that I'd spend the night with him.

"Youse weren't in there that long to have sex," she whispered. "Or…is my brother a chump, like a two-pump…chump?" Kylie popped every P.

"No," I giggled. "We didn't." I actually thought it best and most discreet if Kylie just read the card. "Speaking of Santino…" I looked around for him again.

"Oh…he's in Room Two." She jerked a thumb, studying the appointment book.

"Getting a tan…?" I asked.

Kylie sighed, attacking her phone when it dinged with a text. "No. He needed to talk to…you know." Her eyes scanned the screen and she squeaked.

"A friend?" My mind swam and yet got stuck at the same time.

"Oh, he's so dirty," she giggled. "Gio, my sex god…owner of my heart and drenched—no, what's another word for drenched? I used it already." She nudged me.

I crossed my legs, had to. "Sopping…wet." I squeezed my thighs together, glancing over my shoulder to Room Two.

"Perfect! The owner of my heart and sopping wet pussy—" Her thumbs moved rapidly as she spoke.

"Kylie, who's…he has a friend in there?" I asked, highly curious.

"Well, Gio's dad—who's technically Sonny's friend—and my uncle are in there."

"The three of them are in that tiny room?" I whispered. "Why on earth would they—" It just seemed weird.

Kylie shrugged, squeezing her water bottle, making this loud and obnoxious sound.

I placed my hand on hers to stop her. "Did Santino talk to you?"

"He didn't have the chance," she replied.

I nodded. "You gotta cover for me tonight." I held back my squeal. "And I gotta borrow your phone, tell my dad I'm sleeping over your house again."

Kylie screamed in my face. "Really?"

Overexcited, I giggled madly and danced a little where I sat. "YES!"

"Oh, I love it!" Kylie hugged me. "And we're closing early, too…" She trailed off in a whisper, leaning back. "I heard from my uncle that my mom met up with my dad; meanwhile, Dad can't know Sonny's here, which is ridiculous since The Blues Brothers are in there conferring with him. Damion's…somewhere, and then you'll be—"

"I'm not gonna leave you alone." I couldn't do that.

"My uncle's supposed to take me home." She rolled her eyes. "Unless…my parents are spending the night somewhere, and I gotta sleep over Unc's place. Eh…It'll be fine. You go with Sonny—_you gotta go_—and I'll call Ant, my cousin."

"Why are we closing early?" I asked.

"I have no idea…Sonny flipped the sign and locked the door, and it's age before beauty in my family." She smiled, batting her eyelashes.

I hummed a reply, wondering what I'd tell my father while extending my hand. "Let me use your phone… What do I even say?"

Kylie's much better at making excuses than I am. "Can I call him?" she giggled. "Your dad loves me, and…my calling would give off the pretense that you're afraid to ask." She nodded. "It'd be more believable, I think…because you are scared to ask."

"He'll still wanna talk to me," I whispered.

"Of course…and you'll stop by your house for clothes beforehand, too." She left the stool, going toward the back. "Just in case." Kylie tilted her head toward Room Two.

About to follow after my friend, we heard a ruckus, which made us both stop in our tracks.

* * *

**Thank you for reading. **

**Sonny is up next!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**Beta'd by HollettLA.**

* * *

**Chapter Eight**

**Santino/Sonny POV**

When I left Maggie in the bathroom, I was confident she would choose to spend another night with me. Some self-doubt was present; I felt it manifest as a tightness in my chest, but I fought against it and smiled at my sister.

"What'd you do?" she laughed.

Just as I'd opened my mouth to tell her, I heard the bell ding above the door, indicating a new customer. To my surprise when I turned around, I saw my uncle enter the shop with Aro on his heels.

"What are you two doin' hea'?" I asked.

They exchanged a glance before looking to me. "I could ask you two the same question," Uncle Carlisle piped up. "Your mother called me."

"And E called me," Aro said, his gaze trailing from my shoes to my eyes, sizing me up.

I grinned. "You a'ight, Aro?"

Carlisle patted his friend's shoulder, smiling down to Kylie. "How's business?"

Her cell phone now preoccupied Kylie. "Oh, you know." She typed while I sighed, staring at our unwanted guests.

Aro leaned on the counter. "What's your mother up to?"

"Oh, you know," Kylie giggled, and she hadn't paid him any attention.

Carlisle palmed his forehead. "This means I can leave?"

"No," Kylie said.

We waited for her to elaborate, but she didn't.

"I haven't seen you…haven't heard from Katie. Did'ju go home the other night?" Aro's tone was hushed. "Did'ju make everything all right?"

I nodded.

Because…there wasn't a bone in my body that wanted to hash that out with him now.

"Everything's cool," I whispered, going over to the door to flip the sign and lock up. "Uh…guess you're closing early," I told my sister, and she smiled. "So…"

"Anyone else here?" Aro asked. "That li'l girl works here now." Of course he looked to me when he said that.

But I didn't have a reaction. "We can talk in the other room." I ushered them down the hall. "What's up?"

They stopped to stare at me.

"What?" I asked.

They continued into one of the tanning rooms. Carlisle took a seat on the bed while Aro stood to face me; I closed the door after us. "So…?" I wanted to know why they were here. Most of all, I wanted to know why they wanted to bust my balls for being here. Is this not a family business? My presence shouldn't be suspicious at all…

It's not…not really.

I was the one acting guilty.

Fuck. If I didn't correct this soon, they'll sniff it out of me. "Why'd my mother want all of us here?"

"She called you as well?" Carlisle raised a brow, contemplative. "Everything OK with Kylie…? I don't—"

"She's up to somethin', C!" Aro chuckled, speaking with his hands. "What's MC got up her sleeve this week?"

Carlisle sighed. "Your mother never calls me." He dug his phone from his pocket. "I was supposed to take Kylie home with me."

"I was supposed to help the girls close, drop off whatsherface, and bring Kylie to your house." Aro pointed to my uncle. "That's what Skip said."

My uncle smirked, waving a finger at his friend. "I bet Edward doesn't know that Bella called me. And Bella don't know Edward called you." He nodded.

I massaged my forehead, wondering why what looked like a simple misunderstanding—a miscommunication between my parents—had to turn into a Hardy Boys mystery.

"Ask you to bring Kylie home, fine…but I can't see MC encouraging you to be around the other one unsupervised." Aro lightly kicked Carlisle's shin, letting out a guffaw.

"Oh, fuck you, Andino!" Carlisle kicked at his knee but missed.

"I was kiddin'!" Aro defended. "Half-kidding."

My uncle grimaced, pushing his hair back. "That li'l broad ain't my type. Maybe twenty years ago, I'd—"

I coughed into my closed fist to get their attention.

"No offense, Sonny," my uncle carried on. "You hit it, good for you, but…" He looked to Aro.

And Aro only had eyes for me.

"Oh, I know _why_ Bella called _me_," Carlisle laughed, but I was too busy having a stare down with Aro. "Hmmm." My uncle left the tanning bed to insert himself between us. "Bella's reasoning is in all the things she _didn't_ say…to me." He nodded, facing me. "It's about you and…" he trailed off, placing a hand on Aro's shoulder. "Which is none of our business," he told his friend. "I bet Lisa's home from work… I'll take Kylie home, and Sonny can—"

"None of my business?" Aro asked, incredulous. "He's shacked up wit' my pregnant daughter, and he's traipsin' around wit'—what the fuck is her name anyway?" His eyes found mine.

"Margaret," I said, meeting his gaze. "All of which_ is_ none of your business, Aro. Like I told you the other night—"

"Fuck you!" He came at me, his hands going for my neck, and I didn't move.

Uncle Carlisle did his best to hold Aro back, but I was thrust into the closed door. "Be easy."

"Get the fuck off'a me." He shrugged Carlisle away. "You and me, Santino… Let's go have a little chat."

"They're adults." My uncle's words were for Aro, but his attention was on me. "Sonny and Katie aren't together—"

"I don't give a fuck!" Aro shouted.

"Look!" I hollered, widening my arms to get them to pipe down. "I was called here just like you two. I did what I did on Halloween, which I won't make any apologies for, but yo…" Nothing I'd uttered even needed to be said. Out of respect, I should have their discretion from jump, and getting the third degree—Katie's pops or not—was disrespectful. Especially since I'm not obligated to Katie in any way, except for being a father to our kid, and that's months away from now.

"So…you're here because your mother called you?" Carlisle's eyes were pleading.

I rolled mine. "Yes…getting pulled outta a meetin' wasn't very convenient," I lied. "Whatever happened earlier, I don't know, but I had to meet with the guy from Queens for Skip; he couldn't make it." It was actually a godsend, a welcome interlude, as I was pissed getting that call from my father in the first place. Dad doesn't do sit-downs with anybodies, but this was to be some lesson for Dame—so he could see some bullshit, a mock sit-down about a non-issue. And I was going to show respect; meanwhile, it'd been a setup from the get-go.

There was no reason for me to go to Eclipse…no reason for me to venture back into Manhattan without Maggie.

My plans for the day were simple enough. Nothing got fucked-up by my jumbled brain. It didn't matter that I wasn't as boned-up on my job as usual. I had nothing going on today. Layla is holding down Eclipse, managing the place just fine, with or without me.

By lunchtime, all I wanted to do was get Maggie a cell phone—because having no contact with her was annoying, not knowing anything, without a means of communication—and wait it out until closing time, when I'd planned to…

Well, I hadn't gotten _that_ far before my mother called.

I'd just planned on showing up, hoping Maggie could leave with me, that we could sneak away.

Aro chuckled. "I know what happened before." He calmed a bit, his tone taking a comical turn. "Docta' D was supposed to drive—" he was laughing hysterically now "—but D got a li'l distracted, left the whip, and the fuzz caught wind of their location."

I winced, feeling sorry for Dame. "They came here?" I pointed down. "To the tanning salon?" I know my father takes leaps and bounds whenever he's gotta stop by. He does whatever he has to—dons the cloak and dagger—to exchange money here, where Mom and Kylie could easily be implicated. Of course the Feds know Bay Ridge Tan is owned and operated by Cullen women. But there's never anything too shady going on here, and Dad would never lead the Feds toward Mom, nor would he place Dame on their radar.

After that, I bet Dad just dropped Damion off at the dorms, and then came back to get Mom.

And I bet a government vehicle is parked outside of wherever my parents are having their uneventful dinner.

"Yeah." Aro nodded. "Your brother—and by default, your father—was hard to miss." He grinned at me.

I shrugged, smiling widely. "You got somethin' you're dyin' to tell me, Aro?" I took a small step toward him, knowing he was baiting me. "Say what you gotta say. Don't skirt around like some bitch—" Aro took a swing at me, and my uncle caught his fist. Boppin' me one in my disrespectful mouth was warranted, but I laughed. "My bad." I showed him my palms and then peeped my watch. "You were saying…? It's getting late. That's all _I'm_ saying." I tried not to smile at him.

Aro was seething and his finger was only a few inches away from my face. "You're skating on thin ice, kid. You don't wanna play this game wit' me—"

"Yo!" Carlisle yanked Aro back, which made the tanning bed bang into the wall. "Both'a youse. Chill the fuck out!"

Aro huffed and puffed, and I knew he'd threaten me again, so I waited for it. "You're a sad man, Santino." He started with that bullshit again.

"How am I sad?" I asked the ceiling, finding it laughable. "Katie and I aren't gettin' married, all right? She didn't want me. She doesn't even want me at the apartment. And you're gettin' on me, poking your nose into my business—"

"Don't make yourself Katie's victim," Aro spat. "My poor daughter—"

"Poor daughter, nothing!" I stiffened, angry. "I didn't make Katie do a damn thing, least of all me, but I did the right thing—I'm _doing_ the right thing—and how I go about getting laid, especially since I'm not fucking your daughter anymore, Aro, it's none of your fucking business!" Just like on Halloween, Aro was acting as though I'd cheated on him. "Let it go, Aro… You and my father—youse did a good job teaching me how to pick my battles. You wanna make me the bad guy? Fine. But is this the hill _you_ wanna die on…? Hate me but keep it to yourself, let it the fuck go. You don't want me as an enemy!"

"Don't say any more," Carlisle said, squeezing Aro's shoulder. "Whatever happened on Halloween, I'm sure they worked it out between them."

I nodded, lying once again, and I knew Aro would be schooled soon enough. But there was no way I'd add fuel to this fire tonight by going back on the lie I'd already told. It had nothing to do with being a coward, since I'm not scared of Aro in the slightest—I'm not twelve anymore—but I wanted out of this room, I wanted out of the shop.

I wanted nothing more than to be on my way outta Bay Ridge.

I yearned to be back in that hotel room with Maggie, where none of this—not a fucking thing—existed, except for the both of us.

Katie hasn't even called me, and if something was wrong—trust me—I'd know about it; everyone would know. Bad news travels even faster than gossip in this family. And, to be frank, I didn't give a fuck if Katie's feelings were hurt…if she was legit upset about Maggie and me hooking up, because AJ can't mind his business.

For the first time ever, Katie's emotions—how _she_ feels—were irrelevant to me, and that felt pretty fucking good.

It was refreshing to focus on myself.

The only person making an issue outta that whole mess was Aro.

I bet Katie doesn't give a shit and wanted to start trouble, which is why she hasn't contacted me.

It's the same song and dance she's been doing since we're kids for Daddy's attention.

Aro wants to talk about what's sad…how about Katie's daddy issues? His daughter's inability to keep her fucking legs closed? And I won't even get into how fucked-up AJ is. Aro's ex-wife, Lauren, is a walking disaster, too. I bet Peto has…something, some issue if you dig deep enough. There's no way he'd get outta that shitty dynamic unscathed.

My siblings and I, along with our parents, we have our quirks, too, but…

_Fuck that. _

"Let he who is without sin cast the first stone." My uncle must have read my mind.

"What?" Aro hissed, whipping around to him. "You kidding me?"

Carlisle cringed, was getting frustrated as well. "I'm not judging you, nor am I saying I'm better than you in any way, shape, or form… That shit goes without saying." He winked. "It's not about _judging_ you at all. You're not perfect, so you can't throw a wrench in Sonny's game—"

Aro cackled. "The kid has no game." He grilled me once more. "Mackin' it to a child and shit. It's real easy to get at the young ones; they don't know any better. I bet _real_ women run from you."

I smirked. "You blind or just fuckin' stupid?"

"Oh!" Aro jumped at me again.

"Seriously?" Carlisle laughed and jerked his head my way. "This kid…? They fuckin' flock, no matter their age. That's why we love chillin' with him on a Friday night." He nudged Aro with his elbow.

"Is that why youse two go outta your way to chill with me?" I smiled. "That's news to me. I thought it was my glowing personality."

"Well, you haven't been around as of late," Carlisle explained, eyeing his friend.

Aro remained silent.

_Huh?_

This was interesting. "Yeah…I haven't been doin' much since Katie moved in." I shrugged. "When we got back together, where was I every weekend?" I asked them, mainly Aro, but he refused to answer. "I was home, where I belonged. I never did her dirty, Aro." My words fell on deaf ears, as that wouldn't be the first or last time I had to defend myself.

Carlisle agreed with me. "Will we see you at Midnight Sun this weekend?"

"I—don't know." I was honest, hoping and praying I'd have better plans that involved Maggie.

"He'll be there." Aro straightened his jacket, fastening the few buttons. "Dame was all unawares before 'cause he was kissin' up on Mary-Sue in a doorway—right on the avenue. Or, whatsherface was doin' the kissin'. I can't be sure, seeing as I wasn't there, but many others saw. I'm sure the Feds have pictures." His words were slow but packed a punch that hit harder than his fists ever could. And, while I was instantly angry, I was trying to make sense of what he'd said.

"That's what makes him sad," he said to Carlisle. "He's fucking everything up, screwed up what little chance he had at having his own family…and for what? A piece of ass? For some li'l cooz that moved on to Dame—"

"Stop," Carlisle whispered.

Aro faced me and I didn't dare look away, but I had no idea what to say. "It's true, Santino… You need to wise-up and stop thinking with your cock. Keep thinkin' with that thing and you might get killed." He knocked me outta the way to open the door.

Aro slipped through, quick to leave, and I was even faster to follow him. After I remembered how to move, I wanted more answers, to have an actual discussion with him; I also wanted to confront Maggie, but Carlisle slammed the door closed.

"Move!" I reached for the knob.

"No." He pushed me back. "Just take a fucking second."

_One-one-thousand_, I thought.

Then, as I went for the door again, Carlisle reached into my jacket for my nine. That shit caught my attention. Most of all, it made me smile. "You think I'mma kill him?" I asked, stepping from side to side; there was no room in this closet to pace, or explode. "I know better than to shoot the messenger."

Carlisle didn't have to shield my heat because I wasn't going for it. "I don't know _what_ you're gonna do." He snorted. "But what _I want _you to do is relax a minute…think…before you do anything. Think about how…important it is," he sighed. "Does it really matter if Dame…you know, got with Maggie? If it was a one-time thing between youse…I know your father and I—before we got married—we'd hit off the same broads. We were young; it was whatever it was, but no one got hurt…I'm asking if you care enough to make what Aro said an actual issue?"

Now, Carlisle's words gave me a shitload to think about, and I had to take a seat.

With my head in my hands, anger no longer filled me. This great sense of disappointment came over me, nearly consumed me. I had this mixture of sadness, confusion, and…just this fucking pit in my gut.

I'd never felt this way before…ever.

Betrayed by my brother, and then those crazy kisses from Maggie when I got here; meanwhile, she'd been with Damion an hour or so before—

_It didn't make any sense. _

Something didn't add up, and I wasn't going to get any answers from Carlisle.

"You spent one night with this girl." Carlisle shrugged. "You don't love her. She's not your girl, and… Yo, there's no ring on her finger. That makes her fair game, which _you_ know."

I shook my head, sucking my lower lip into my mouth, to agree and disagree with him. Because I was at a loss for many things in this moment.

"Exactly." He patted my shoulder but handed my gun back. "I know…gettin' played sucks, Sonny. But you didn't get played. You can't if she didn't mean anything."

"And _if_ she did?" I asked. "If…No matter the status of our—whatever-the-fuck—or how long we've been fucking, or _not_ fucking." I sucked in a deep breath, about to lose it. "If I was to drive to the dorms to rip Dame's heart outta his motherfuckin' chest—" I stood up "—would_ I_ be wrong?"

Carlisle jumped back in surprise. "All due respect, that must've been some pussy. I'm just saying…for you to go goo-gootz. You bumped her off one time." He was trying to level with me, which I appreciated, but it was unnecessary. "You were talkin' before about picking battles…" He trailed off, widening his arms. "And you goin' for Dame is… Well, it's irrelevant if Maggie doesn't share what you feel."

He placed his hand on my chest. "If she messed around with Dame just a couple days after she fucked you? Come on, Sonny. I'm telling you…That's not a girl you wanna put a lot of stock in. There. I said it." He sounded like my father.

And I had no argument.

His words were correct, and they made a lot of sense.

Damion and Maggie doing what they did…

Plus, if the Feds caught wind of it, if Aro knew, so did my father, which would explain the wild goose of a sit-down I was made to attend.

I doubt my mother would invite me here to throw that shit in my face.

But I could see my father playing referee by placing as much distance between Dame and me as he could, hoping I wouldn't kill him.

Whether Dad knew it ended on Halloween or not wasn't important.

"You're right," I whispered, taking in a large breath. It felt hard to breathe, made me consciously aware about sucking in air. "It started and ended on Halloween… It meant nothing."

"See?" Carlisle smiled. "Now, imagine you ran around like a nut, only to draw _that _conclusion but after startin' a bunch'a trouble?" He chuckled and squeezed my bicep. "How 'bout I drop off the girls, then we can get a drink—"

"Maybe." I pushed my hair back, feeling sick to my stomach. "I gotta go, though… You got them? You'll drive 'em?" My fucked emotions notwithstanding, I knew I had to leave. More importantly than that, I needed to speak with my father…or Damion.

No, I needed to talk to my father.

Even if all I wanted to tell him was to keep Damion the fuck away from me.

My brother needed to keep his distance for a little while.

Maybe it was silly for me to feel this—whatever this is, after spending such a short amount of time with Maggie, but I felt what I felt. And just because I was willing to let it go, willing to let Maggie go, let Maggie be with him, didn't mean I wanted to see it or discuss it.

Fuck that.

Fuck Damion and all his bullshit.

Fuck Bay Ridge…

"Yeah, it'll be quick," Carlisle said. "Alex is home and it's still early." He checked the time. "We can meet at the Wicked Monk, say a half hour?"

I shook my head. "I gotta go back into the city."

"Eclipse!" he exclaimed. "That's perfect. Have a few drinks…get you a blow job. That'll make you feel better." Carlisle started laughing. "You gotta gimme forty-five—maybe an hour. I'll just meet you there." He nodded, typing on his phone.

I stopped him from sending some shady text to my aunt. "Just go home." I didn't know how to convey what I felt about the situation I was in, yet I could shed some light onto his. "Spend time with your wife, appreciate what you have…a woman who loves you a great deal, and your kids" –my cousins were just as fucked as the rest of us— "they're all healthy." I blew out a breath. "From someone who's never had anything like that… I mean, you envy me, what I have…and—" In this moment, I realized I'd give anything to have someone, someone to love me even a fraction of the amount he's loved by his wife. "It's ridiculous…sad yet hilarious at the same time," I laughed without humor.

I didn't love Maggie.

And she didn't love me.

But—earlier, yesterday and the day before—I had all this excitement about the possibility of more, that we'd have this fighting chance, that we had something, _anything_, a scrap to build on to.

I'd shared…a lot more of myself than I ever had before. I was under the impression that it'd meant something, which was very disappointing.

A part of me wanted to see if Maggie was down to spend the night with me anyway.

Why not?

She called me a tease, when I'd been worried about her feelings. She was all over me, and I kept stepping on the brakes.

Why?

Why not fuck her and then forget about her? It could be business as usual, and I could get back to being myself, stop acting like this whimsical, happy fool.

But the thought of Damion…

I groaned to myself. "Do what you want, but I'm out, not up for chillin' tonight."

Carlisle stopped me once more. "I'm sorry this happened…and, if you feel that torn about it, you should get to the bottom of things. Seek your answers, but don't hurt nobody."

I disagreed but smiled at him. "I need to get outta here. I'll be fine. Just make sure Kylie's squared away—"

"Done. And, you know, shit isn't hopeless. There are other fish in the sea."

I threw my head back to laugh. "Wow. Really?"

"I'm serious." Judging by his expression, I knew he was. "Look, maybe this is hitting below the belt because…Sonny, you're not that deep. You care about your family, _our other family_, and making money… And those aren't bad things to care about, but that's _all _you've ever cared about. Please, spare me any garbage about Katie. We both knew that shit was D.O.A., all right? Let Aro think what he wants about his daughter. Again, what do you care?" he asked. "Anyway, caring just a little bit about this one…you're feeling it more because that's never happened before. Do you understand?"

I actually did.

"Take that…this new ability to open yourself up and the idea of love, and fucking run with it. Meet some new broads…females who aren't strippers." He shook his finger. "They have their purpose, and it's a great one, but…you wanna build a relationship with someone who's as like-minded as yourself. Someone who's age-appropriate, for one. And before you throw your aunt in my face, she was twenty-three when we got together, which is a stretch from…a fucking high school student."

Maggie's age was never an issue for me.

"You also need someone who's ready to settle down." He ticked off his finger. "Someone you can stand to be around without fucking for more than…a few hours." He nodded. "Those are just things you should look for in a woman _before_ getting too involved. I'm not talking about settling. God, no. By all means, fall in love, look for someone you can see yourself loving one day, and…when you do find that person, it won't take you long to realize that. It won't take that long at all for you to see future potential in…your eventual love."

He furrowed his brow. "My first marriage… Sonny, I can't even begin to…" He left his mouth open but no words came out. "We were like you and Katie in a way, only…our union was set in stone. I knew as a teen I'd be marrying her. Like anyone in my position, regardless of the obvious absence of love, I did my best to…cope, to find happiness, and…I made a lot of mistakes."

He cursed under his breath as his face paled. "Shit I'm going to hell for when I die, but…"

"Did'ju kill her?" I murmured in a whisper, as I'd always wanted to know that.

"Me?" He pointed to himself. "You think I could ice a woman? The mother of my eldest children, no less?"

I nodded, not blinded by any misconception. "I do." Sure, he's essentially a businessman, a family-man, my uncle Carlisle. Maybe he doesn't have the same sadistic and/or sociopathic attributes as my father. But his complete and utter indifference to certain things, a lot of things…makes my uncle capable of just about anything, even if he could be seen as a pussy in comparison to others.

He frowned. "That breaks my heart…to hear you say that."

I grinned. "No, it doesn't." I knew my uncle didn't give a fuck about what I thought. "Men or women…does it really matter? Especially if the cause is great?" My reluctance to shoot anyone for _any_thing stems from reasoning, since I do have the ability to see both reason and logic. If there's nothing to gain from ending someone, there better be a good reason behind it.

"It doesn't," he admitted. "But I didn't… She had this meltdown that'd been building. She'd never been the most stable, always a li'l crazy, but we're all a little bit crazy. You know?"

Of course I knew.

"Would her death have benefitted me in the long run? Yes. It would and it did, and I might've encouraged…what'd happened. I didn't pull the trigger, but I didn't exactly break the door down when she threatened to—fuck all that." He shook his head but showed no emotion. It was as if he was speaking of furniture or the tanning bed he was leaning on. "Especially since…I knew from the get, from the moment I'd laid eyes on Alex that she was different. There was something about her. And that was the point I was trying to make." He hit my bicep.

"Your parents—" he rolled his eyes "—they got hitched mad quick. I'd been…shit, I'd been giving my father and Marcus every excuse in the book, reasons why we should hold off on the wedding. So, it surprised the hell out of me," he laughed, "to come back from my honeymoon and find your parents engaged, when their first date was, basically, at my wedding." He clapped once. "But it all made sense when I met Alex." He nodded. "Just like matters of the heart'll work themselves out in your brain when it's right…because there's no such thing as logic when it comes to love. If you feel it, you'll also feel when it's right."

"Right," I agreed for the sake of doing so, wanting to get out of here already. True, conversing with my uncle calmed me down a whole lot, but the thought of seeing Maggie in my periphery as I left… I wanted to get it over with. I wanted to feel 100% better already, and I had no idea how to go about that—how to get over the betrayal and subsequent disappointment.

When it comes down to true feelings, I was more hurt by my brother; meanwhile, I remembered our phone call. I told him that if shit with Maggie didn't work out, he'd have my blessing, but I…I did ask for the opportunity, not for some sneaky, underhanded shit.

But Maggie might just be inconsequential in that as well.

If I had no definitive feelings for Maggie, I was angry at my brother's ability to betray me, that he could even do what he did without a care.

I'd never…

Where was his sense of loyalty?

That shit hurt more than anything I could think of.

* * *

**Thank you for reading. **


	9. Chapter 9

**Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**Beta'd by HollettLA.**

* * *

**Chapter Nine**

**Santino/Sonny POV**

When it comes down to true feelings, I was more hurt by my brother; meanwhile, I remembered our phone call. I told him that if shit with Maggie didn't work out, he'd have my blessing, but I…I did ask for the opportunity, not for some sneaky, underhanded shit.

But Maggie might just be inconsequential in that as well.

If I had no definitive feelings for Maggie, I was angry at my brother's ability to betray me, that he could even do what he did without a care.

I'd never…

Where was his sense of loyalty?

That shit hurt more than anything I could think of.

Getting fucked by Dame, my brother, my best friend despite…despite every-fucking-thing. Circumstances and/or the people who come between us don't matter. At the end of every day, he's my brother, a fact that makes me loyal to him by default, automatically. I'd never—not in a million years—make a play for his chick. I'd never want to; the cost would be too great.

I'm a sucker. He doesn't respect me, thinks and knows my forgiveness might just be immediate.

But that wasn't going to happen this time.

It's not about who or what he took from me, but the fact that he could and has stolen from me…

Vexed to high heaven, my exit was abrupt, and I nudged my uncle back, much like Aro had done to me earlier. "Thanks for the talk."

"Don't mention it." Carlisle was behind me. "You girls ready to go?"

I felt multiple pairs of eyes on me as I unlocked the door, but I refused to turn around.

"Yeah," Kylie said. "Sonny—"

I waved behind myself while I slipped out of the door.

"Sonny!" Kylie shouted out to me. "Where are you going?"

"Home." I walked toward the corner, toward my car.

"You're going the wrong way, and what about—"

I turned and I continued to walk backward. What I didn't expect was to see Maggie behind my sister. "Something came up. I gotta go." I pointed to my watch.

"What about your phone?" Kylie held the AT&T bag in the air.

I stopped, mostly to take in my surroundings, and I saw that the avenue was quiet, dying down this late in the day.

"Can_ I_ have it?" Kylie saved me by asking that.

"Sure." I smiled at my sister, and I appreciated her blunt honesty more than anything in this moment. Whether her greedy-ass sold the phone on eBay or she used it herself didn't matter. She asked for it; she didn't do any shady shit to obtain it, and the phone meant nothing to me.

The value of the cell phone varied by who'd own it. When it was to be Maggie's, it meant a great deal, but now it's worthless, no matter how much I'd spent on it…

Before I turned, Maggie stepped in front of Kylie. "Santino, I thought we—"

I laughed, which cut her off. "You didn't get enough this afternoon?" Even if it might feel good, I didn't want to hurt her.

But my uncle saved me this time by leaving the tanning salon, trying to get the girls' attention. His presence gave me the reprieve I sought, and I turned for the corner.

"Santino, wait!" Maggie shouted. "Please!"

"Don't!" Kylie yelled.

"Stop. Get off!"

Curious, and a little amused, I looked behind myself to see my sister and Maggie in an upright grapple. Kylie was pulling her friend back while Maggie fought to get free. "Don't ever chase a man! What the fuck is wrong with you?" Kylie scolded.

I stopped in my tracks, hating myself.

The short walk to my car… I could have walked three times the distance by now, or it just felt like it.

And while I had no idea what to say, or if anything needed to be said, I wanted to fucking scream!

It was insane. Irrational in ways I couldn't explain.

"Santino, just wait!" Maggie was crying.

"Oh, Jesus," I muttered, palming my forehead. I'd thought leaving without saying anything would be both self-explanatory and very anti-climactic. I didn't expect any theatrics on Fourth Avenue.

"You're pathetic." Kylie was still holding on to her friend. "I won't let you do this."

Carlisle pretended to cry, and his wails were pretty fucking loud. "That's you." He pointed to Kylie. "Whenever Peto looks at you wrong."

Kylie gasped.

I chuckled, taking a step forward but I stopped.

"Why would you give me this?" Maggie showed me the card with the big-eyed cat that reminded me of…her big eyes.

I sighed, glancing around. "Everyone get back inside." With a newfound speed, I ushered them back into the tanning salon.

Thankfully, we didn't draw any attention to ourselves.

Kylie and Carlisle were bickering, which is what they do best, but it's actually funny and endearing at the same time.

And Maggie had her face covered, her shoulders shaking as she sobbed quietly.

Her silent cries caught all our eyes.

"Hey…" Kylie whispered, wrapping her arms around Maggie.

Maggie was reluctant to embrace my sister, and she was ready to bolt. Without her coat or her school bag, Maggie made for the door, and she's a runner.

I'm a walker…away from problems, too.

I blocked her escape.

Maggie just stood there with her head down, but Kylie was amped and ready to be the judge and jury for her. "This?" My sister shoved the card at me. "Was it all crap? Some plot to get her back in bed? I expected more from you!" And now Kylie was crying. "You're the best guy, and you don't usually break promises. And you said things, and I know Maggie's heartbroken, but I'm disappointed in you too."

I looked to the ceiling for a way out.

"God can't help you." Carlisle's voice was a bit ominous there. "Ky, get your stuff, and I'll take you home. Let Maggie and Sonny talk."

We all turned to him, wide-eyed and wary, and Carlisle was trying to communicate with my sister without words.

Kylie sniffled, nodding at him. "You guys have to talk. What happened in Room Two that made you wanna ditch her?" She stared at me now, waiting for an answer, but she didn't wait too long before turning back to Carlisle. "Can we get lobster?"

Our uncle laughed, but his answer surprised me more than Kylie's question. "Yeah, sure." He followed her into the back. "Call your aunt, see if anybody else wants something."

Kylie was giddy when she turned to face him. "I bet Aunt Alex would do some kinky shit if you brought her home a slice of cheesecake from Martini's." She nodded.

"Bet," Carlisle agreed. "Some lobster tails and a whole cheesecake."

"Not just the tails. I want a whole lobster…"

And I was focusing on them because of the alternative.

The words—to ask her about what she'd been doing with Damion—were on my tongue, practically on the tip. Now, my reluctance to get into it stemmed from…my reluctance to care more about it, fearful of the answers because maybe I knew enough, and I wanted it all out of my brain sooner rather than later.

Stressing that which doesn't have a good outcome just makes the issues even bigger.

If we could, however, accept the past couple of days for what they were, sweep them under yesterday's rug…that'd be perfect, ideal, and yet that'd do nothing for the anger and contempt I have for Damion.

Alas, Rome wasn't built in a day.

"I didn't know," I said, uncomfortable as fuck. Instinctively, I wanted to console her, but for what? My body knew what it wanted to do, my fingers ached to wipe her tears away, but my brain knew better. Caring leads to _actual_ caring; I'd learned that if nothing else this weekend. "I thought when I dropped you off at school—" This wasn't coming out correctly. "I didn't think you'd pick up where you'd…left off with Damion…_with Damion_." I shrugged, just putting it out there. "I thought we…were us, that we had what we had, and that you didn't…use me to gain his attention." I felt like such a bitch.

Especially because of how wounded I sounded. "I gave you the card before I found out about youse foolin' around." I raised a brow as I stared down at her. "So, don't cry just 'cause your spot got blown. I don't hate you; I'm not mad," I lied about that last one, chock-full of anger as I was. "Did you really think you could have us both, though?" This was sorta ridiculous now, but I was determined not to be a dick. "I'm sorry. Please, forget I asked." I waved a hand, unable to meet her stare.

Logically, _I could_ look at the past couple of days for what they truly were. I spent time with this beautiful chick, who I thought was just as gorgeous inside as she was out. I enjoyed every moment; none of it was torturous, and I did get laid. "It happens. No hard feelin's. I hope you and my brother…" I paused to find the right words.

"What are you talking about?" She wiped her eyes. "I didn't—there was no fooling around. I don't know how you could think I'd do that to you." Maggie reached for me.

I stared down to our conjoined hands, my thumb slightly caressing her knuckles. "I'm talkin' about you and my brother kissing in a doorway, right here on the avenue, which is gonna make everyone talk." When it came down to details, whether they did or didn't, it made no difference if everyone already thought they had. "But, you know what? It's fine." I squeezed her tiny hand with both of mine. "He digs you… I don't know if you'd wanna get mixed up in that right now, with Amelia in the equation. But be happy, have fun. We had a good few days, but what was it going to lead to?"

"Oh…" Maggie's lip quivered as she nodded. "I get it." She took her hand back to palm her stomach, and then she sat down. "I really and truly understand," she said, "—but it hu-urts all the same." Her voice broke. "You're with someone you really like, whose kiss makes you feel like you're on fire…someone who makes you forget your own name. And with feelings like that, it's easy to get swept away. I knew you could never be my boyfriend, but I didn't wanna say goodbye."

I sat next to her to thumb some of her tears away, and she leaned into my palm. "Please, stop crying," I whispered.

She clamped her eyes closed, which made a few more spill. "I didn't. I wouldn't let Damion kiss me. We didn't kiss at all; we just talked."

"Wouldn't let?" I asked, dread still in my gut. "So, he tried?" I held her chin to look into her eyes.

She shook her head and left the bench to stand. "Nothing happened, but it doesn't matter."

Maggie stopped talking when Kylie and my uncle came out. I knew they'd heard everything, were probably eavesdropping the whole time, but I didn't care.

"I need to get my stuff." Maggie ran past them into the break room, Kylie whipping around and on her heels.

"Nothin' happened with Dame?" Carlisle whispered.

"That's what she said," I replied, standing to get myself together, too.

"Why do you still look like that, then?" he asked. "Take her to dinner, talk some more…explore what happened on Halloween?" He shrugged, pursing his lips. "Wanna double? Go for some lobster? Kylie's a great conversationalist, and one of the only women I can openly date without Alex divorcing me." He chuckled.

I'd taken Kylie out to eat more times than I could count, and she never disappoints, is always a huge cockblock although great company. "You…take Maggie home. I'm just gonna take off."

He frowned. "Seeing her cry like that, it reminds me of Hanna, Carli, or Kylie crying over some boy." Carlisle scoffed. "And I've always told my daughters, just like I've told your sister…no dude is worth their tears."

I nodded. "Very true."

"And the ones who are will never make them cry."

"In my defense—" I touched my chest "—I thought I got played, and I left _to avoid_ a scene like that."

"I saw that saying on Facebook a while back. I'm not shittin' on you." He punched my bicep. "That's what I tell the girls, what I'll tell Maggie when we leave to make her feel better."

"Right…" I sighed. "This goes without saying, but I have your discretion? You'll get on the horn, tell Aro I was never here?" No, that'd be pointless.

"To avoid more problems," he agreed. "Of course…Haven't you learned that pretending issues don't exist doesn't make them disappear?" Carlisle laughed. "I'm on a roll tonight. I wish I could tell your pops all he wisdom I've bestowed upon you. He'd be proud."

I shook my head. "Aro won't keep it a secret, but he left before all the rest of it."

"Aro also threatened you. I doubt he'll bring it up in conversation, and your pops doesn't talk about you," he said.

"He doesn't?" I was surprised.

"He trusts you, knows you'll be all right… Edward only vents when he's worried about something, which means he'll jabber on about Kylie or Dame. But with you, he knows he can just come to you…talk to you like the man that you are. Understand?"

"Makes sense."

"All of which is why you're gonna be upfront," he implored. "Don't let Aro blow up your spot. It's no one's business, but if Aro's gonna be a bitch about it, then you'll look better for letting the cat outta the bag before he does—more honest."

"There's nothing to tell." It was an unfortunate half-truth. "When I'm ready, yeah, I'll—" It was my turn to get quiet when the girls came out.

Kylie was fast to jump into my arms, knocking the back of my head with the AT&T bag. "I love you, Sonny." She kissed my cheek to whisper, "Don't let her leave," and then she thrust the bag into my hands. "This was for her." She looked to see Maggie going for the door. "Asking if I could keep this told me what I wanted to know before. You saying I could have it, that got me upset," she rushed out through a hushed whisper.

"I'll drive you home, sweetheart." Carlisle spoke up.

"Thank you, but I'd rather walk. Goodnight." Maggie waved to the room, quick to leave.

Carlisle and Kylie stared at me.

"What's the point of me following?" I asked them. "I don't wanna hurt her, and we have no future." I started laughing. "It's best we said goodbye before—"

"Did you even get to say goodbye?" Kylie looked like someone skinned her puppy. "That's important. Like, for closure." She palmed her heart, tears starting again. "I thought—I didn't think you'd let her get away, Sonny." Her face crumpled.

"Stop it." I palmed her wet cheek. "This is real life…not some drama on the CW. She was never even mine for me to get upset over for losing."

"Shouldn't _that_ mean something?" Kylie asked. "It's gotta mean _something_…if you cared enough to get sad or mad, just from the thought of her with another man." She threw her hands up. "For the love of God, Sonny, own your feelings!"

Carlisle rolled his eyes. "Is it about that time, Kylie? That time of the month?"

"Screw you!" she barked, quick to compose herself. "Do I still get lobster?"

Our uncle narrowed his eyes at her. "You can be a pain in my ass, but yes." His gaze trailed to me. "You go after her, be real sweet to dry her tears… What's the worst that happens?" He raised a brow, lowering his voice. "You get laid again?"

"Unc!" Kylie screeched.

He continued. "You dig her—even a little bit, and youse are both young—go for yours, and worry about tomorrow and next week..._tomorrow or next week_." He laughed. "Why's everything gotta be a production or…have meaning?" Carlisle widened his arms.

"Everything has meaning! From your first kiss to the first time you—"

"Enough." Carlisle stopped her.

"Go!" Kylie pushed me. "Go before she gets home, my God!"

"Fuck." I was outta there fast, faster than I thought possible.


	10. Chapter 10

**Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**Beta'd by HollettLA.**

* * *

**Chapter Ten**

**Santino/Sonny POV**

When I got to the corner, my head whipped to and fro, trying to spot her.

But I had no such luck.

Jogging was a bitch with having to weave around people and shit. Once I got closer to Third Avenue, there was almost no one on the street, no bodies.

Running was even easier when I plopped my nine into the bag I'd been carrying.

By the time I got to Ridge Boulevard, I saw Maggie.

She had been running, pretty fucking fast, too.

Maggie stopped to catch her breath, and she was still crying, which made her let out this hacking cough that turned into a dry-heave.

My heart broke just watching her, and I'd slowed down. "Maggie!" I hollered.

With her hands on her knees, she turned to see me, but then she took off again—booking it.

"Fuck!" I ran even faster since she had half a block on me. "Stop runnin'. Christ!"

Unless you're running for exercise, or from some zombies, it's not very dignified.

Though I could dig chasing a chick.

Seems legit.

"You wanna ride?" Kylie asked to my left; my uncle was driving and slowed to keep up with me.

"Don't let her get away, Sonny!" Carlisle cackled. "Get that bitch!"

"Oh my God!" Kylie was laughing, too.

I gave them the finger, seeing my uncle pick up speed. He drove down the block, heckling Maggie by the sounds of it, and I was afraid they'd spook her even more.

_Was she on the fucking track team?_

"Maggie, stop!" I shouted, but she was already easing into a walk. "Thank you." I held my side, continuing to catch up to her.

"Want another cigarette?" Kylie threw one at me, damn near hanging outta Carlisle's Mercedes. "You need more cardio in your workout regimen." She wasn't lying, but I was doing just fine.

"Just go to dinner!" They were getting on my nerves.

"I gotta know how this ends," my sister said.

"I'm sure Maggie'll call you." I huffed.

"Good luck!" Carlisle pulled my sister into the car.

Much to Kylie's dismay, he made a U-turn, going back toward Fourth Avenue, and Maggie watched them.

I got the impression she'd only stopped because of my sister. "Hey," I said.

"I've wanted to run home and get under my covers all day." She stared at the sidewalk. "I wasn't running because of you. I just wanted to go home."

"Well…I _was_ running because of you, to catch up to you." But neither Kylie nor my uncle gave any insight as to what I should say if I caught her. Suddenly, their presence wasn't such a nuisance, but what's even worse than sounding like a bitch?

Having your sister hold your hand through an awkward conversation. "I've noticed a double-standard, too. A female shouldn't run after a man, but a man can run after a woman?" I asked.

Maggie pushed her hairband back. "When a female is…it's perceived as…desperate, pathetic, almost tragic. But, a man runs after a woman, that's…heroic, romantic, and sweet. I don't know why…a lot of movies and stories end that way, whether the chase is metaphoric or literal."

I hummed. "This was _quite_ literal." I hoped this wasn't the end of anything. "Um, do you like to run?" I'd never asked her that.

She palmed her face, embarrassed. "I need a bigger pair of balls. I'm like a mouse—"

"No," I disagreed. "And, for the record…sometimes men need to be ran after, or hunted down, because they're stubborn. They might leave without hashing shit out and with the wrong information, to avoid getting hurt." My heart had yet to slow since I was nervous. "I could use a hero every once in a while…to save me from putting my foot in my mouth, drawing certain conclusions." I quickly realized exactly what'd happened.

As fast as Maggie tore the walls down from around me, I'd built them back up…to hide behind them, my personal fortress.

"I didn't kiss Damion, but you were right." She gestured to me. "I don't even know what…I'd hoped to gain or achieve by…spending more time with you." The lip quivered again.

"Stop it. Don't cry," I begged.

"I'm sorry. It's been a very emotional day for me."

I waited for the upcoming period excuse that never came. "I can imagine." I copped to my own fucked dome. "Trust me."

"I'm…shy, very private. The things I've told you, experienced with you, it was all with you, you know?" she asked; I nodded. "All afternoon and then feeling relieved when you…" She paused to take a deep breath. "And I don't do well with…humiliation, being embarrassed." She sniffled, her stomach quivering. "Hindsight, I did a lot better than usual. My better instincts told me to run home hours ago…wish I listened to them, could have listened to them."

"Tell me what happened today." I stepped closer to her. "What'd Dame say? Did he—" Knowing he doesn't do well with rejection… "Did he hurt you?" Seething, my entire body stiffened, and I waited with bated breath for her answer.

"No, he didn't." Her voice was small, quiet. "Nothing happened. We talked, which… I don't know what to make of it, the things he's said." She shrugged. "It doesn't really matter, nor make a difference, though. Does it?"

"Fuck circumstances, I wanna know." I chuckled without humor.

She stepped back. "You're angry…don't be, and I really wanna go home." Maggie was wary, and she looked as though she might take off again.

I groaned, my shoulders slumping. "I am…angry, but not with you." I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Whatever happened today, tell me 'cause you want to. I'm not gonna force you to tell me." A part of me wished I could. "And I don't think anyone does well with embarrassment, least of all me." I rubbed her bicep to soothe her, but she moved from my touch—almost as if it'd caused her pain. "You wanna get something to eat? Maybe talk some more?"

She shook her head. "No, thank you. I'm not very hungry, but yeah, okay…no." Maggie closed her eyes. "I should just go."

She turned and walked away from me.

I widened my arms at her retreating form, and then I started following her.

Now…it was no longer a choice I had to make but a compulsion, as I needed to know how this ended, too…more so than fucking Kylie.

Thankfully, Maggie didn't run.

But I decided to walk faster and sidle up to her. "I'll walk you." I placed my arm around her, and, fuck me, my stomach started its garbage.

Maggie shrugged me off. "Don't…" She wouldn't even look at me. "Is this where you'll promise we'll be friends? Gimme the brush off? Just don't. Don't say anything. I get it and I totally agree."

"But it still hurts the same." I used her words, which were apt for me as well.

"Yeah," she whispered. "Why prolong the inevitable? No matter how much I wanna sleep with you again, it'll probably hurt more if we did that, and then we had to…part ways. And I'm not saying I'd need a marriage proposal to sleep with you; don't think I'm crazy or clingy. I'm trying to make sense of all the realities in the situation and make the best decision for me, so I won't be hurt in the end."

I fucking beamed down to her, even if this moment was kinda bittersweet.

Once again, I adored how forthcoming and straight she _could_ be.

"I don't even know how long _this_ is gonna hurt. God forbid, we spent more time together, and I fell in love with you. How do you cope with something like that?" She finally looked at me.

"I don't know. I guess we'd have to spend _even more_ time together," I said, my heart hammering away. "If we do, in fact, fall in love, that'd be the most logical and easiest thing for us to do."

"Be realistic." She grimaced.

I laughed and shrugged my shoulders. "Baby, I think that's as fuckin' realistic as it gets."

"I'm in high school and then I'm going to college—"

"Your age doesn't bother me, and I've told you that a few times by now. I'm sorry for assuming you messed with my brother. But the information came from a… _Well, he was a trusted source_. I don't know how much I trust him now." I chuckled. "I fucked everything up, and it killed me…to say what I did. But if you'd decided you wanted Dame, what was left for me to say? I don't own you. We spent a couple of amazing days together, but…" I tried to get my words together. "I can't promise you marriage, or even…love, and I'm sorry for that too." She had no idea how sorry I was about that, that I couldn't give her any guarantees.

"But, Maggie—" I stopped her from walking "—anything is possible, and I don't want to say goodbye just yet, either." I palmed her cheeks, needing to see her eyes. "This…me and you, what we have…even after a few days, I can say it's the most meaningful connection I've ever had…as a man." I stared at her lips, wanting them badly. "There are many obstacles in our way, but the possibilities _could be_ endless…if we let them, if we go with the flow to see where this goes."

My words were pleading; I was begging her to give _us_ a chance.

What I don't know could fill a library, but I knew I needed more time with her.

Good, bad, or indifferent.

Parting ways felt wrong.

No matter where this takes us, I felt we needed to take the ride…together.

_And that had to mean something. _

Hopefully, the road'll be paved with great things, and it won't end with some thousand-foot drop off a cliff. No, I'd never let that happen. I'd push Maggie outta the car first, take the fall myself, and knowing that eased my conscience.

"I want more time with you. I want you more than I've ever wanted anyone. I thought about you every second today, and I counted down the minutes." A weight had been lifted, being as honest as I was. "But you are eighteen, you're just starting your life, and my ex is about to have my kid." The world was back on my shoulders. "It'd be cruel to promise you more than I could deliver. That's why, hiding from reality, taking you to the Waldorf was…it was amazing."

She nodded as quiet tears spilled.

"I'm sorry if I hurt you." I wiped them away. "That was never my intention, but you have no idea—no fucking clue as to how painful it was hearing about you and Dame." I took another deep breath.

"Then, why tell me to _be_ with him? Act like I wasn't important? That was… Christ, it was like a knife." She held her chest. "Even if you thought… I don't know. I guess it's foolish to wonder why you wouldn't fight for me. Especially if you thought I'd done something to hurt you."

"Oh, I fight, and I fight dirty…but not with this stuff." I placed my hand on hers. "I'd want you to choose me because you wanted me, not because I lasted however many rounds." I smirked. "I'd win, have no doubt about that."

"You misunderstood me." Her gaze was panicked.

"Relax." My voice was soft, not wanting her to get worked up again.

"You were quick, too quick to just…let me go," she whispered. "Without hearing my side, the truth, you just…"

"I know," I admitted. "Adding you to his situation would be fucked, but…it'd be less complicated than adding you to mine. If you were happy—if you and Dame could be happy, who am I to mess with that, when _we_ had no commitment?" It made sense to me. "Sure, thinking that hurts, but I was hoping…I'd deal." The fact remains that I might still be in a similar situation; I might have to say goodbye and then grieve the loss, mourn all the what-ifs…an unexplored opportunity, a chance at a little or a lot of joy I'd lost.

"I am older than you but not necessarily wiser when it comes to this stuff." I smiled. "But I know a few things. I know that when you find something that brings you happiness, you gotta hold on to that shit and never let it go—"

"I wouldn't be happy with him. Santino, he's not the Cullen I want, and I'd hope you'd be more selfish than that." She stepped closer. "That if you want me, in any way, you take me—I mean, tell me," Maggie spluttered, nervous-like.

I grinned. "I wanna keep you, take you away with me. We could have more days together, and…take each day as it comes our way, see what happens." Fortunately, or unfortunately—I wasn't sure yet—I was back at that happy place, staring down at Maggie's pretty face. She managed to part the clouds again, and I felt the sunshine…no matter the actual night sky.

"If you need a label, be my friend." I didn't care how cliché that sounded, or how desperate my next words might seem. Because it was the God's honest truth. "If nothing else, I want you to be my friend. I've always had to prove myself to everyone to gain whatever—whether it's trust, loyalty, or respect. Name it, what you want, and I'll prove I can be that…person for you." It came out sounding even more pathetic than it'd played out in my head. Damn. And I couldn't believe the lengths I'd actually go to in order to spend more time with Maggie.

Worse than that was this sense of irrationality.

Because if I was throwing caution to the wind, going with my truest instincts, I'd just ask Maggie to be my girl—to be mine—and then that'd be it.

She'd be mine. I could rightfully defend her, fight for her, and have her on my arm for the world to see.

If the end result is love or some horrifically bad breakup…

At least I could say I gave it my all.

I'd shoot for the moon, give it my best shot while hoping—

I was reluctant to do that, though.

There was the potential we'd both get hurt in the end, and I wasn't willing to go into it knowing that was a possibility.

_Ugh. But then I didn't care…I just fucking wanted her! _

_That also had to mean something. _

"Just be you, Santino, and I'll be me…'cause I want you, too. But I want _you_, not who you _could be_ for me." Maggie's shoulders dropped; she placed her forehead to my chest and wrapped her arms around me, and I was quick to embrace her. My hold on her was nearly frantic, even if the relief was evident in our stances.

"Thank you." I squeezed her, kissing her hair to plant my nose into it.

Maggie sighed, nuzzling her face into my shirt, which made me smile wider. "Tighter."

I happily obliged.

And I managed to snag this heart-searing kiss that drove me wild…

Maggie and her kisses are trouble, the best kind—a fact that had me soaring near the clouds while we walked back up the avenues to my car.

She'd already spoken to her father, or Kylie did, and it was too late for her to pop in for another school uniform. Maggie's voice was muffled; she was smashed into my side, but she didn't complain that I wasn't letting go.

_If we were gonna do this, she had to get used to that shit. _

I laughed while I helped her into the passenger side.

"What's so funny?" Maggie grinned.

I tossed her book bag into the backseat. "Life…" I crouched low to hold her waist. "You sure about this, Shaky?" I lifted her hand to smooch on her knuckles and then her wrist and forearm.

"I can't think clearly with your mouth on me."

I chuckled and ceased my kissing assault. "Fair enough." Again, I could relate to that, my mind is fucked whenever her lips touch me.

"I feel…inadequate, maturity-wise?" She scrunched her nose.

Since I could relate, yet again, I nodded.

"I'm as sure as…I've ever been about anything, but I am a kid…kinda." She showed me her palms. "I also feel this could be the beginning of something big, something I may not be able to handle, or…it could all amount to nothing." She was ranting, her voice rising. "It's confusing." Maggie grabbed my hand. "But I can't walk away."

We'd come full circle on the stroll back to Fourth Avenue, back at square one. And I wondered—if Maggie couldn't—was _I_ supposed to say goodbye? Be the aforementioned adult?

But she cut me off before I could reply. "I'm a worrywart." She rolled her eyes. "I'm terrified, but I know that if I keep worrying about the worst-case scenario, I won't get to enjoy this… If we worry too much, we'll squander the time we have."

I knew that was true. "In life, we don't get many guarantees, _if any_, to be honest." It was a sad truth. "But we'll never know unless—"

"We try." She leaned forward to kiss me, and I groaned into her mouth, tangling my tongue with hers. She'd wrenched me closer, my feet barely keeping me rooted to the ground, hovering over her. "Let's go." She writhed against me, out of breath. "Start driving." A whimper escaped her.

As I stared into her lust-filled gaze, the heady haze that'd clouded my mind had lifted.

I knew Maggie's wanting me had more to do with sexual desire than actual feelings. That _I_ felt more, in all senses, than she did at this point. But that was all right; I'd take it and see where it led us.

Again…

Unable to let go and unsure, what other choice did I have?

"We'll get there." My words had more than one meaning. "I'll take care of you, baby." That was a promise. "Okay?" I nipped those sweet lips once more before leaning away.

Maggie's face and demeanor had changed dramatically. She looked absolutely giddy, happy, as I closed the door and got into the driver's side.

I was fast to pull away from the curb and head toward Manhattan.

_Fucking finally. _

We were on our way…and I hoped all our worries would be kept at bay.

With one hand on the wheel, I had my other on Maggie's thigh, needing to feel her close. Halfway there, I'd removed it to grab that orange bag by her feet.

"This was for you."

"Oh…" She wouldn't open it. "You didn't—"

"I wanted to." I turned to smile at her.

When she dug through the bag, she squeaked and closed it just as fast. "That's for me?" Her face paled, appalled.

"I…" I was nervous again, felt like I was walking on a tightrope. "If you dislike it, we can go back, get whichever one you want. That's the newest, top-of-the-line—"

"Santino…I-I don't even know what I'd do with it." She inched closer, probably to see me better in the darkened car; she was staring at me so hard.

"What…?" I asked. "You'd use it to—"

"On who?" She bit her lower lip.

I slumped my shoulders, remembering something. "Gimme that." I placed my hand into the bag to dig out my heat. "This—" I held it up, and she jumped back, trying to disappear into the seat "Whoa! Relax." I placed it into my jacket. "It's mine…my nine. You've seen it."

She nodded. "I've never…so I'm a little afraid."

"That's understandable. If I taught you how to use one, how to respect it, there'd be nothing for you to fear," I explained.

"Except…the damage, the harm it could do. Why do you even carry one?"

To buy myself some time, I pointed to the bag. "That—that is yours, for you, the phone."

Luckily, Maggie didn't do too much protesting, but she had comments. "This is crazy expensive. I appreciate the gesture, Santino, really—"

"Baby, how much it cost me, means nothing. All right? Being able to talk to you, contact you…" I paused to stop at a red light. "That's fucking priceless." Glancing her way, she was still staring at me, wearing that swoony-face, and she sighed as predicted. All of which told me my words, my intentions were golden. "Enjoy it. Text Kylie with your new number." I squeezed her thigh. "You know how to use it?"

She nodded. "I know how to use Kylie's. It's not any different, really."

"Nope," I agreed, smiling and waiting for her to bring up my nine again.

But Maggie didn't utter a word about it.

At this stage of the game, there was no way I could tell her about that part of my life. If she found out by other means, that'd be a different story—more like gossip, as I'd _allegedly_ be implicated in something.

Coming straight from the horse's mouth…?

There were just too many risks, none of which stemmed from her walking away, or my fear of her judgment. And if she didn't know already…? I didn't understand how she had no knowledge as it was, but there was obviously a reason behind it, one I'd wait to uncover.

It's not as if I list "mobster" or "criminal" as my occupation.

Regarding outsiders, there's always been a widely spoken, warned about rule. It's deny, deny, deny…unless mitigating circumstances change.

Until then, I'll be seen as paranoid about protection in Maggie's eyes.

And I refused to feel guilty for lying by omission because…I don't see my involvement as a defining attribute.

/=/=/=/=/

The valet parked my car while Maggie and I walked to that same pharmacy from the other night. She said she needed something but asked me to wait outside. I knew she wasn't doing anything secretive. The little I know about Maggie, she just wanted to get whatever it is without me paying for it.

I smoked a cigarette as I waited for her, and that's when I noticed I had two missed calls. One was from Kylie and the other from Damion.

My anger flared, staring at his name, but I chose to ignore it—ignore him—and I called Kylie. My sister is the only person who knows we're here. Well, she knows we're at a hotel. I'm not sure if Maggie shared all the details with her. But if something was amiss, I needed to know.

"Hello!" Kylie was frantic.

I blew my smoke out. "What's up?"

"Is she with you?" she whispered.

"Yeah." I smiled. "You'll see her tomorrow afternoon."

Kylie squealed. "Oh, that's fucking awesome! I'm so happy," she sighed. "Maggie doesn't work tomorrow, but tell her to stop by. I got her text, telling me she gotta phone… But I didn't know if you gave it to her to be a nice guy, or…"

"Or…" I flicked my cigarette butt into the street. "She doesn't work tomorrow?"

"Nope," Kylie replied.

I nodded. "Okay. Well—"

"We just finished eating."

"That was quick," I commented.

"I was starving. You have no idea. I'm still at Unc's. Ant's home and Carli's here. We're gonna pop open a bottle of wine and watch some lame rom-com—"

"Where's Mom and Dad?" I cut her off to keep her on track.

Kylie sucked her teeth. "They're at some hotel. Tell me, why'd they go to a hotel if I'm not even home? If no one's home?"

"A hotel?" My stomach dropped, knowing my father's ritzy ass loves this place. He's the reason I came here, as he's always going on about how romantic it is…or whatever. "Which hotel?"

"I don't know, Sonny," she giggled. "Dad's probably plowin' Mom as we speak, but give him a call."

"No, thanks." I calmed down because…that's exactly what our father is doing. There wasn't a chance in hell we'd run into them. If by some coincidence they are here, they won't leave their room. "Everything else is cool?" I looked up and down the block, albeit wary now.

"Yeah…Oh, Gio's calling—"

The call ended; I placed my phone into my pocket at the same time Maggie left the store. "What'd you get?" I asked.

She showed me the plastic bag. "It was really nice for that shopper lady to bring bras and stuff, but…I can't wear that kind of underwear to school. They're too sexy." There was a package of Hanes panties. "Some stockings…" They were black and looked thick.

"Cool." I placed my arm around her. "You coulda told me—"

She shook her head. "Let's not talk about it anymore."

Taken aback, stared down to her.

Maggie grinned up at me. "It's silly."

"Okay." I was content to let the subject drop, but... "You wearin' fancy panties now…?"

She giggled. "I changed into normal ones before school."

On our way up to the suite, I couldn't wipe the smile off my face. The closer we got to the room, the more relaxed I felt. I'd almost forgotten about the possibility of my parents being here.

Maggie kicked off her shoes, placed her bags down, and then looked to me for direction.

I found that to be funny.

Did she expect me to attack her? Be on her from jump?

Well…that's exactly what I wanted to do, but it's not what I did.

"Just relax." I walked past her to grab the phone. "And take off your clothes."

Her eyes widened. "I thought...you'd do that part."

I dialed zero, waiting for the operator. "Relax," I said again.

Maggie slowly undid her shirt buttons while I was connected to the concierge. From my conversation, Maggie understood my meaning. I wanted some laundry person to come up and grab her uniform. It'd be cleaned, ironed, and delivered before we'd leave in the morning.

In her underwear, Maggie ran into the back bathroom to get the bathrobe.

I followed to run the Jacuzzi. "After such a long day…" I trailed off when she leaned into me, the water nearly forgotten. "Damn, baby." In a simple white bra and cotton boy shorts, she looked absolutely gorgeous. "Look at you." I placed my hands on her hips and they roamed down to palm her ass.

Maggie wrapped her arms around my neck, pulling me closer.

As soon as our lips touched, there was a knock.

I groaned into her mouth, quickly tangling our tongues, only to pull away. "Take a bath, relax." I did not want to let her go. It took everything I had to leave that bathroom, but I did it.

After gathering her uniform, I jogged to the door to hand them over. I tipped the dude well, telling him to just leave it on a rack in the hall—not wanting the disturbance.

Peeping Maggie in the tub, I ordered us a bunch of food, salads, cheeseburgers and fries, some champagne and strawberries for dessert. It wasn't too late just yet, and my stomach tied in knots with how much I wanted to join Maggie.

Again, I didn't.

Knowing the food would take at least fifteen minutes to arrive, I took a quick shower in the other bathroom.

I was actually just drying off when there was another knock.

In my towel, I grabbed the food cart and pushed it all the way into the bedroom.

Now that I'd showered, now that we're in our little slice of seclusion, I was very relaxed. Actually, I was kind of exhausted and hungry. But before I told Maggie about the food, I collapsed back onto the bed to cover my face with my forearms.

Today had to be the longest motherfucking day in the history of days…

But the end result made me smile.

"How long was I in there for?" Maggie asked.

I smiled wider, leaning up on my elbows to look at her. "Not long at all…I just move fast." I've always been that way. If there's shit to be done, I fucking do it as quickly as possible.

Maggie giggled while she dried her hair.

"Come here." I called her with my finger.

She and her happy face hopped onto the bed, landing on her knees next to me.

"Thank you…for being here." I grabbed her hand.

Maggie didn't answer me with words. She threw her leg over to straddle me, and I groaned—fucking ecstatic—my hands quick to hold her hips.

"Today was long," she whispered, her eyes on my chest.

I hummed, happily, loving her soft hands caressing my abs. "Yeah…too fucking long. I've waited for this…all day." My stomach was in knots again, this overwhelming sensation—one I could hardly explain—encompassing me. She was literally sitting on top of me, and yet I needed us to be closer somehow. I wanted to squeeze her, my hands and arms flexing. I wanted to kiss her, touch her…just be closer.

As she stared down at me, the butterflies ran amok, my body was tingling, like electricity flowing through me. This anticipatory feeling was too much and yet glorious at the same time.

"I missed you," I whispered.

She gulped and nodded, her eyes dancing around the room before coming back to me. "I…" Maggie was at a loss for words.

"Tell me." Trying to relax, to be nonchalant, my hands rubbed the outside of her thighs…which wasn't my best move. It did nothing to calm me down, my cock got even harder.

Her eyes met mine. "Like you said before…about me being on your mind all day. You were on mine…all day." Maggie bit her quivering lip.

"Are you upset?" That sobered me. "Hey." I palmed her cheek.

She shook her head rapidly. "I'm not sad or upset. No way." Maggie planted her hands down onto my chest, and they were warm—felt fantastic.

I eased back, trying to relax again. "Then…what's up? Are you hungry? I got us food." I jerked a thumb to the cart.

"I'm fine." She licked her lips. "I—I want, uh…I thought about you all day, but I've been dying to…since—" she wiggled her hips, and my dick loved that "—I'm fine, really."

I nodded, reaching up to place my hand on the back of her head, as I sat up a bit. "Kiss me."

Maggie knocked me back down, her lips smacking onto mine. She kissed me deep, and I tried my hardest to go slow—tried not to throw her down and get the party started.

I wanted to go at her pace.

And there was no way I'd deny her.

Not now. Not after the past fucking day. Not with how much I yearned to fuck her.

When Maggie leaned away, my hands followed to untie her robe and push it from her shoulders.

She let me do it. Her eyes never left mine—I felt them on me—but I gawked at her beautiful body. Her breasts were full, her nipples erect, and her flat stomach quivered with every choppy breath she took.

I stopped at her navel to lick my lips, my eyes riveted to hers. "God, you're breathtaking."

She turned her head to grin into her shoulder.

"Just stay here." I thought she was the prettiest sight I'd ever seen. I loved just having her sit on me. "Tomorrow, you're not working. I'll pick you up from school." I'd actually hopped up to palm her cheeks. "Let's just—" I nipped her lips "—see how long we can get away wit' it?" I was out of breath, and it wasn't because of exertion. It might be because of nerves—a little bit—but the rest was excitement. "I'll take you to and from school, every day."

Judging by Maggie's wide-eyed expression, she didn't expect that shit to come flying outta my mouth. "Um…"

"When your mom comes back, we'll think of something else." I shrugged, hugging her body tightly to mine.

Once again…The only thing separating us was the fucking towel wrapped around my waist, but she wasn't close enough. As sick and twisted as it sounds, I'd never wanted to consume somebody else before. If I wasn't scared I'd break her ribs, I'd squeeze the fuck out of her. "Maggie…" I was scaring myself here. "Uh, shit." My hands shook as I picked her up and brought her over to my side...I was afraid I'd ravage her, lose control, scare her, or be too rough.

Getting her farther away from me seemed like the smart thing to do.

"What's wrong?" She grabbed on to my forearms.

There was no way I could tell her all that shit. "Nothing."

_Everything…_

"I don't know how many times I can say I'm staying over with Kylie," she whispered. "I can't miss school. Every absence needs to be called in—"

"I'd take you and then pick you up." I scooted closer so our legs touched. "We'll take it day-by-day. You can even go home after school, see your dad a bit, do whatever. Then…I don't fucking know, but I want you here. With me." I pulled her to be on top of me again. "We'll make it work. If you don't wanna, hey, I get it. And there'd be no hard feelin's. You just gotta tell me. I mean, you know that you can leave whenever you want to. Right?"

She nodded.

"I don't want to pressure you either." I clamped my eyes closed, not wanting to say any more. "And it's not because of sex," I blurted as an afterthought. "I genuinely enjoy your company, and—"

Maggie cut me off with her lips, and then leaned back to smile.

"Thank you…for shutting me up." I threw myself down, feeling even more tired.

"We'll take it day-by-day," she said, her fingers trailing along my chest. "Can _some_ of it be because of sex?"

My grin matched hers. "Most definitely… It's all about you." I cupped her face, drawing her closer. "All about you. Whatever you want, you tell me."

"I just want you," she said.

"I'm yours." I swallowed, our noses touching.

Our kiss went from slow to fast in a matter of seconds. A few moments after that, my hands started to roam, and our roles reversed.

Maggie was on her back while I quickly eased between her thighs.

Since it was tangled and awkward, I pulled the towel away before I sat back on my calves.

Maggie followed, her movements frantic, as she kissed me again. "I want you," she panted.

I agreed without sound, my lips trailing lower on her neck. "So fucking sexy," I breathed into her ear.

She shuddered, tilting her head to give me more, and I took advantage of that. Low on her neck and near her shoulder, I marked her. It's too early for labels and rings, but that shit was an indication Maggie was mine if anyone saw it.

She whimpered, pushing into my mouth, and I held her tighter—my fingers kneading into the flesh of her ass.

"Lie back." I bit her lip, sucking it into my mouth before bringing her down.

Her chest heaved as she stared up at me, and her feet came to rest on either side of me.

Maggie was completely exposed, looking overheated and fucking sexy…

I hissed at the sight as my hands glided up the insides of her thighs, adding some pressure to widen them. And I was back to that crazy place. My insides were going wild while I was trying to…go slow, and figure out what I was going to do next.

"Touch me." She moved her hips, seeking an impossible friction since our bottom halves weren't touching. "Santino, please." Impatient, she sat up to grab my cock, her touch too delicate again. But the sensation made my body jolt. And if it weren't for the fact that I'd come in her hand, I would have let her continue.

Without words, I nudged her back down to hover, wondering where I should start. I knew my eyes might look a little crazed, which would match how I felt.

"Can I lick you?" I palmed her breasts, squeezing once before I dove for them. I tweaked one with my fingers, suckling the other, while my cock rested against her heated pussy. She was soaked, judging by how I kept sliding. And although I wasn't inside her yet, that shit felt fantastic.

Maggie writhed below me while I picked up a slow rhythm, knowing the shaft of my dick was massaging her clit, teasing her hole. And my mouth hadn't relented in its assault on her tits.

When her legs wrapped around my waist and she pulled my hair, I groaned, scooting lower to eat—taste her pussy.

She stopped me, her hips still moving. "I want you inside me—to fuck me." Her nails dug into my shoulders, trying to pull me back up.

Crazed, I wanted that more than anything. "You want me to fuck you? You want my cock?" I went lower to search her eyes, and she nodded.

Faster than I thought possible, I dug a condom outta the nightstand, but I'd paused to show her the full box. I wasn't sure what garbage Damion or other family members had put into her head. But I hadn't fucked anyone since her on Halloween. I can't imagine how I could, or would have, when Maggie's been in every thought of every minute of every day since that night.

The thought of being with someone else never crossed my mind.

It has been all about her, all about this moment…

"I believe you." There was trepidation in her gaze, which made me wonder what she was apprehensive about.

Since there was no turning back—not if I had anything to say about it—I asked, "You okay?"

"I'm…more than okay. I just—" She groaned, pulling me down once more to kiss the fuck outta me. Maggie was like this little firebug filled with passion, and I dug that to no end. "I want you…bad."

"Me too, baby." I kissed down her neck, widening her thighs with my knees. "I can have you?"

"I'm yours, Santino. I want you to enjoy my body."

"Stop saying you're mine, or else." I tore the wrapper to roll the condom onto my cock.

Her eyes followed. "Or else?"

On my knees, I grabbed her waist to pull her even closer. Her thighs hugged my torso, and we were perfectly aligned. "I'll keep you." I hovered to kiss her deeply, our tongues tangling, exploring…a kiss so deep and sloppy, it was perfect, and never-ending.

Eventually, I came up for air, needing to see her face as I pushed forward. Her eyes widened when I entered her, only the tip of my dick inside of her. That was when I paused to make sure she was okay. The hard part happened on Halloween, but even with the absence of her cherry…she was too tight.

She drew in a deep breath when I finally exhaled. "I'm okay," she rasped, quick to clear her throat.

I nodded, holding my breath once more to get in deeper and deeper, until she finally sheathed me. "You sure?" I asked. Because, while her snug-as-fuck pussy felt fantastic, it slightly pained me. Pleasure and pain is always a unique—not necessarily bad—combination, one I was sure to enjoy. So, I wasn't sure what she'd be feeling. "Christ." I collapsed forward a bit, resting my forehead to hers. "You feel amazing, baby…so good." I peppered her face with kisses.

Every muscle in my crazed body was stiff from holding back.

Maggie caressed my cheek with the back of her hand. "You're inside me…and you don't feel close enough. I don't understand."

Elated, my heart the happiest it's ever been, I smiled. "I understand, uh, how you feel." I swallowed and nuzzled my nose to hers. "But I don't know what that means." A groan, almost a growl escaped me as my hands roamed up and down her sides. "My beautiful girl." I reached between us, refusing to move my hips as my finger made circles on her clit.

Maggie sighed, easing farther back, relaxing a bit, and widening her legs. "I'm not—not gonna break." Her hips moved, causing my cock to do deeper. "Fuck me like you would anyone else."

I withdrew my hand, leaning down, our chests nearly touching. "You're not…just anyone." It came out strained from holding myself back. "I, um, I might not last that long." That was the problem on Halloween, and it was OK because it was her first time. But she was almost as snug as the other night, only wetter—fucking soaked.

Maggie moaned, trying to move her hips again, but I had her pinned.

And I couldn't take it anymore.

That moan…

Her body…

"Fuck, baby." I grabbed her hands and held them above her head, pulling my hips back and thrusting forward with force.

She gasped but I covered her mouth with my own, kissing her furiously. Her thighs hugged my torso even tighter as I slowed a bit.

"Still—Still OK?" I groaned out.

"Yes," she mewled with her eyes closed, her hips moving, slightly meeting my careful strokes. "You-you can go faster. Hmm, my God." She gasped for air, her hands moving within my own. "Can, can I-I touch you?"

I let go; she ran her hands up my chest, wrapping her arms around my shoulders.

Holding the outside of her thigh, I brought her leg up to hitch it around my waist—get in there better, deeper, hit it harder. "Fuck—" My hands roamed down to grasp her ass, to get as deep as I could. I'd come all the way out, just to slam back into her without much force.

By now, it was killing me to go this slow, this easy.

Every cell in my body was screaming to go faster, fuck her harder. With my insides still going wild, I fought hard to restrain myself. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt her, or…finish too soon.

When I felt the fire pooling in my gut, I paused to kiss her, and we both moaned into the kiss. "Santino…my God." We shared the same breaths as we stared intently into each other's eyes and I started to move again.

Our bodies rocked together, slow and steady, my hands resting on her head.

The way she looked at me…

I couldn't tear my eyes away.

And how I felt—how good she felt to me—this was probably the most erotic moment of my life.

Everything I felt…

I couldn't even begin to describe many of the emotions going through me.

And just how fucking special this was.

"Harder," she moaned, biting my lower lip.

That move sent me into overdrive, and my thrusts grew more vigorous with each buck of my hips. Now our chests were touching, and I was as close as I could be, only moving my hips, unwilling to move an inch away.

_How was it that she still wasn't close enough? _

Maggie's touch became more aggressive, more needy. And I gave her more. I moved faster, giving her every inch of unrelenting cock I had, hugging her the tightest I could as we kissed.

I tore my mouth away to catch my breath, resting my head in the crook of her neck as I continued to fuck her.

When she stiffened and tightened around me, I fucked her even faster, enjoying the feeling to no end—picking up more speed while she came, shouting my name.

And I followed right after, slamming into her hard, my cock going as deep it could. "Fuck…hmmm." I kissed her shoulder, making a trail up her neck and to her mouth, all while I tried to catch my breath, tried to keep my weight off her. "Baby, that was…" I had no words to describe that shit.

Maggie hummed, still panting but wearing a glorious smile.

"Beautiful," I murmured.

She palmed my cheeks, drawing my lips down to hers to kiss me passionately. "Now…I'm hungry." Maggie let out this little giggle, her eyes on mine.

"Sorry that…it was so short." I nuzzled my nose to hers, knowing we'd work on that. She won't be as tight, more like a perfect fit for my cock, the next time we fuck.

She smiled wider. "We can…again."

"Until I get it right?" I teased.

"It was perfect, but if you feel that way—" she giggled "—we can keep at it."

"That was my plan." I stared into her beautiful eyes, wondering how I got this lucky, wondering why fate, or karma, had given me such a precious gift.

But I _knew_ one thing for sure.

If love was this crazy leap of faith…

I was ready to jump!

* * *

**_The End_**

**_Well, it's not really the end. LOL. To continue, you can always read and/or re-read Riders on the Storm from CH20 and on for the rest of Santino and Maggie's story :-) _**

**_Thank you for reading. _**

**_I hope youse enjoyed this! I had a fun time writing...as this was something I felt strongly about fleshing out. We got to see everyone fall in love...except Sonny & Maggie. _**

**_Please leave me your thoughts. _**

**_Next on the agenda is wrapping up that chunk of Edward/Skip POV for "After the Storm," which should post soon. As far as the rest of my WIPs, please stay tuned. Again, I plan on completing each and every one of my stories. _**

**_And thank you for your patience. _**

**_Thank you for reading! _**


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